


Endure and Survive

by stylinsonau



Category: One Direction
Genre: Adventure, Attempted Rape, Cannibalism, Guns, LIKE A REBOOT, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Survival, Threatening, Violent Content, What else fuck, Yuck am i right, Zombie Apocalypse, bye, many character deaths, nothing graphic, profanities, quite harry-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 62,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5719636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinsonau/pseuds/stylinsonau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know if I can give you back to them. Now that this … now that everything between us has happened.”</p>
<p>“After all we’ve been through. It’s not for nothing.”</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>An au where Harry, a young survivor 15 years into a zombie apocalypse, makes a promise to accompany a lad his age to a large group with a huge aim of finding a cure for the society in exchange for a new set of guns doubling what he lost. As they make their way across the country of United States, and out of their safety zones, they experience loss, truth, survival and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii, so this is probably quite overwhelming for me to right. In word, its like a hundred pages already. It's been shoved back months (even a year) ago so I'll just let at least the first chap slip. Hope you enjoy!

 

** **

inspired (more like a reboot) by the popular video game, The Last Of Us. The plot is just that great. I’m not an expert at zombies and at action and shit but I’ll try, but I won’t promise this is going to be a ‘worth-it’ fanfic. And to just remind you all, I basically just turned the game into a fanfiction because of so many similarities. (with a slight twist because it’s larry.)  
And I apologize in advance when the ‘’’’action’’’’ scenes are messy and doesn’t really contain any action at all. I’m all about the romance, man.

FOR THOSE WHO DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT THE PLOT OF THE GAME OR THE GAME ITSELF, IT’S AMAZING.

**Credits** : For NaughtyDog for the wonderful game and characters. Also, mostly Cryaotic for the game play and at some parts Pewds’ gameplay to guide me.

 

**SUMMER**

**“Guess what? We’re shitty people, Joel. It’s been that way for a long time.” – Tess**

“I think that’s all of them.” Liam evens out his breath as he tugs on his knife, the blade dug deep into a goon’s throat.

“Wait, just—“ Harry pressed his arm further against another man’s throat, his arms flailing around to try and grab onto at least one of Harry’s limbs before his lungs gave out. The man goes limp into Harry’s arms and the latter drops him to the ground, “I can’t believe we’ve been through this just because of those guns.”

“Don’t act like they’re not important.” _They are_ , Harry realizes because a few days before, Harry’s practically dead without ration cards.

The two walks and ducks down behind two crates pushed together, their eyes peeking out every second. “Oh, there’s still so many.” Liam says with pursed lips, _Too soon,_ “I thought we had them all.”

“Where the fuck is Cal?” Harry informs, ignores the stupid remarks the man is making, “That son of a bitch.”

“There’s his office, on the far right.” Liam becomes an open map, “He must’ve run in there. Come on.”

It’s a wharf area, and there are guards working for Cal scattered all around. At the very end is the office, with a blinking light at the top of its door. It’s not an easy job, taking out the left men standing with their guns. They make every shot and hit count, stealing the men’s own ammo to fill their own back at their apartment.

“Come on. He must have heard us.” Liam swears under his breath. They enter the door, and as soon as Harry shivs the door open, Cal shoots and misses, the bullet bouncing off to the metal of the doorframe. They’re both quick, standing and using the wall at either side of the door as protection.

“Get back!” Cal calls for desperation.

“We just want to talk.” Harry shoots Liam a look, because that’s partially true. He also wants to kill him.

“Like hell we are!” Cal continuously shoots as Liam tries to take a peek, but misses horribly. As Harry hears that familiar click of the gun, signing as the lack of ammo, both of them spring from the wall. Cal takes off and runs off from his office through another door.

Harry kicks the door open and it leads through an alley. Harry pumps his legs faster, teeth gritting. Liam follows behind him as they both run after Cal. The man enters a building, and jumps out through a window and out to another alley. Harry loses him for a second; going through another doorway but Liam calls him out, “Idiot, this way!” _Alright, Jesus._

Harry curses and follows Liam out, vaulting out the window where Cal had passed through. Finally, they catch a man, trying to pry open a tall metal fence with the other side of the alley trashed with bins, plastic bags and boxes.

“Hey.” Harry greets, watching as the man struggles even further and snaps around in Harry’s voice.

“Harry. Liam.” Cal takes a deep breath, “Hey. How are you doing?”

Liam picks up a scattered metal rod as Harry chuckles out a response. Cal tries to run past them but Liam uses a great force to hit his kneecaps, making the man fall to the ground on his chest because of the impact.

Liam drops the rod and crosses his arms, “Where are the guns?”

“L-L-Look, I—“ Cal stammers, struggling to find the right words not to enrage the two even more, “You have to hear me out on this—“

Harry walks closer, makes the injured man intimidated. Harry kneels down, taking Cal’s arm by force and pinning it to the ground after twisting it so his palm and elbow are facing up. Liam comes closer and crouches, “What were you trying to say?”

Cal winces under Harry’s tight grip, “I sold them.”

Liam gapes in response, “You’re serious?”

“I owed someone.” Cal admits and he’s practically shaking under Liam’s hard gaze.

“You owed us.” Liam continues to speak, and Cal continues to yelp as Harry’s grip keeps tightening, pulling up barely an inch and putting pressure on his elbow as it’s nearly being bent the other way, the _unnatural_ way.

“Just… just give me a week. I swear I’ll… I just need more time.” Cal practically pleads, his cheek pressed to the dirty concrete ground.

Liam laughs, “I should’ve considered that if you didn’t waste your fucking ammo by trying to kill me. Who has them?”

“I can’t.”

Harry shakes his head and uses his strength to pull up, breaking Cal’s bone at the joint. The cracking noise is heard, mixed with Cal’s loud cry as he shifts to his side, his broken arm bent behind him, “Jesus—“

Liam says more firmly, “Who has our guns?”

“I owed the Fireflies.”

“What?” Harry scowls, not a good sign. He stands up and starts to pace around, his arms crossed and his face full of anger and frustration. Their attention is grasped suddenly as a loud explosion triggers from afar, the large smoke emitting from what looked like the checkpoint.

They ignore it nonetheless, because what’s important right now are their guns and how they’re going to retrieve them. “You have got to be kidding me.” Liam snarls and he swears he hears horror flash Cal’s eyes. How stupid.

“Look, we can just … we can just get in there and… and get the guns after we finish them off, yeah? What do you say?” Cal offers, tone heavy with desperation to be alive after this confrontation.

Liam scoffs, rising to his feet, “Stupid fucking idea.” He aims at Cal’s head and shoots, blood splattering everywhere and staining Liam’s shoes.

“So, what?” Harry questions. He needs those guns, real bad.

“We get them back.” Liam answers like it’s an obvious answer.

“How the hell are we supposed to? First of all that group will get us killed if we’re seen with them, alright? If we even mention their name, we’d get arrested.” Harry has a point, because he’s seen people get killed and shot at the head because of them getting associated with Fireflies.

“I don’t know.” Liam answers truthfully. “We can just … get in the Capitol and explain it to them. Let’s go… find a Firefly or something.”

At the other end of the alley, from a doorway, a woman enters the scene. A wound on her abdomen is obvious, bleeding and looking as horrible as it can be. Harry sighs in relief, “There you go, Liam. Quite convenient, if you ask me, Eleanor.”

Eleanor looks down to see Cal’s dead body lying on the ground, face unrecognizable from his split forehead. She sighs, “I needed him alive.”

Liam raises an eyebrow, “The guns he gave you; they’re ours. We need them back.” _Like hell._

“Afraid it doesn’t work like that, Liam.” Eleanor winces, tightening her hand on her wound for some pressure. She really needs medical help. Doesn’t she have this whole troop of Fireflies?

“Of course it doesn’t.” Harry mutters under his breath. He stays behind, acting as a background and letting the two _women_ discuss their problems. Actually, it’s _his_ problem, too, because he needs those guns as well.

“I paid for those guns.” Eleanor says, “And you need to work for it if you want it back.”

“Fuck.” Liam gives Harry a look before turning back to Eleanor, “How much cards do you want?”

“I don’t want any ration cards. I need something out of the town and to the city. If you do that, I’ll give you back your guns, double of what I received.” She offers. Which… isn’t at all bad.

Liam finds it hard to refuse, and Harry speaks first, “How do we know you’re telling the truth? I heard military is kicking your asses.”

“I’ll show you the guns.” Eleanor says, ignoring Harry’s comment, because it’s true, “And we need to go. Didn’t you hear the explosion?”

“We did. What was it?” Harry asks, “Are those your people?”

“What’s left of them. Why do you think I’m turning to you guys?”

//

“One more left.” Harry huffs, as the three of them ducks under the ledge of a window from inside. One is stupid enough to jump inside. Harry seizes the opportunity to punch him straight in the face. The guard stumbles back into the wall. Harry corners him, hits him in the gut before grabbing the back of his head. Harry turns him around and smashes his face into the wall one, twice, and thrice after the man goes limp.

“That’s a lot of work.” Liam stands up, stretching his legs from too much crouching. Eleanor climbs out the window with no word before climbing out of the window. They reach a rooftop and climb down with the ladder.

“So what are we smuggling?” Harry asks as Liam bends down to shiv a door open.

“Nothing you wouldn’t want.” Eleanor says, and Harry wonders if it’s another set of guns, or ammo or whatever. It shouldn’t be that hard.

To be honest, Harry never see himself surviving when the apocalypse started; never saw himself living in an apartment with a partner-in-crime and actually alive. The apocalypse started when he was ten years old, not even a teenager to know the basics of holding a gun and stabbing a person in the throat. He survived with his parents and his older sister, Gemma. His parents died because of a military soldier because they’ve somehow crossed a territory line. Gemma took over the duty of taking care of Harry until his age of seventeen, and she was twenty-one. She left Harry with the military in their quarantine zone for him to learn while she took off and joined the Fireflies, but he’s heard news that she quitted years after.

At the same age, Harry killed his first infected, and he met Liam when he was twenty. The man is trapped within a frenzy of infected under a bridge, and Harry is in just in the right time to rescue him. Liam gains Harry’s trust and Harry gains his, and five years later, they’re still working together.

At the back of the warehouse they entered, Eleanor stumbles through the door and falls to her knees. Harry, who is right on her heels, crouches down and grabs her elbows gently to help her get up, “Hey, come on. You have to—“

“Hey!” A knife accompanied by a teenage boy flies out, ready to stab Harry hopefully in the back when Liam catches his wrist and twists his arm to his back.

“Don’t you touch him.” Eleanor snarls, getting back on her feet and leaning against a box with her breath unstable.

Liam lets him go and the boy rubs his wrist, going straight to Eleanor. Harry shuts the door and observes the youngling, eyebrows furrowed. He’s wearing a black shirt and a dirtied up, old denim jacket with some worn out jeans and some sneakers. He has a backpack on. His fringe is slightly wet with sweat and his face has hints of dirt.

No one blames him, because they’re all as dirty as him.

“Who is this?” Harry asks before he catches the boy’s gaze, _blue, twinkling eyes,_ “You’re kind of young, aren’t you?”

“I’m twenty-three.” He spits. It’s… _really? Because to be honest you’re more like twenty with your small height and …all._

“Louis.” Eleanor warns, “Come here and listen.”

Liam and Harry stay back. The latter chuckles, “Twenty-three. Wouldn’t believe it.”

“Shut up, Harry.” Liam grumbles. Harry punches his arm playfully.

As Louis steps closer to Eleanor, he gasps slightly at the sight of blood covering a part of her abdomen and as well both of her hands, “Shit, what happened?”

“I’m going to be fine.” Eleanor assures. It’s kind of a lie, “But we need to be separated.”

Louis frowns, “Well… I’m staying—“

“Louis, don’t be stubborn, please.” Eleanor pleads in a calm manner. She turns to Liam and Harry, “Get him to the Capitol, and there’ll be a group of Fireflies that will meet you there—“

“Woah, woah what?” Harry holds up a hand, “Him? We’re smuggling _him_?”

But Liam argues another point, “The Capitol is not close.”

Eleanor ignores Harry, “You two can manage. You’d do anything for those guns, right? All you need to do is hand him off, come back, and weapons are yours, double of what Cal sold.”

“Where are they?” Liam questions, challenging.

“Back at our camp.” Eleanor answers.

“We’re not doing anything until we see them.”

“Why can’t he just go with you, then?” Harry scoffs, because the _man –_ unbelievable- is seemingly old enough to fight off, “He looks capable of taking care of himself.”

“He’s not.” Eleanor informs, and it wounds Louis’ ego. “I’m wounded, and he can’t take everyone on his own.”

“Thank you, Eleanor. That really flatters me.” Louis sassily remarks and Harry looks at him in slight amusement.

“Liam will come with me, and Harry will go with Louis.”

“Bullshit.” Harry mutters under his breath the same time Louis cries out, “I’m not going with him!”

“Louis, stop.” Eleanor firmly says before she turns her attention to Liam, “You can come with me; I’ll get fixed while you verify the weapons, but he’s not coming with me to cross that bad part of town.”

“How do you know them?” Louis practically demands. He can _to_ take care of himself.

“I was close with Harry’s sister, Gemma.” At that, Harry turns to Liam and ignores Eleanor and Louis’ conversation, “You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?”

“You can take her to the north tunnel, and I can meet you there.” Liam confirms.

“You _are_ serious, Jesus Christ.” Harry shakes his head.

“It’s just a small errand, Harry.” Liam keeps his voice hushed, “This isn’t going to do any harm.”

“Why can’t _I_ verify the weapons, and _you_ take him?” Harry questions.

Liam gives him his arched eyebrow, “You’re really going to go there and risk seeing your sister?”

Harry glares at him, “Fuck you.”

As both of them turn their attention to the other bantering two, “You go with him.” Eleanor shoves his shoulder slightly.

Harry turns to Liam, “Don’t take too long. I will fucking strangle you if you leave me with this brat.” (Louis already dislikes this man) He looks back at Louis, “You – stay close.”

//

“Are you speaking to me yet?” Louis asks as he drags a gentle and careful finger over the blade of his knife. Harry huffs, stacking crate after crate to climb on as a makeshift stepping stone because of the broken bottom part of the staircase. As soon as the stack he makes is tall enough for them to step on to the continued staircase and tall enough to climb on, he makes the first move. He jumps, using his arms to pull himself up before hooking his leg to fully climb on.

Louis waits until Harry enters the deserted apartment before putting his knife back to his pocket. He jumps, his fingers only reaching the stack. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself, really, so he uses all his strength to pull him up. But halfway through, he’s met with a hand. He looks up, his arms shaking and sees Harry.

“Are you going to take it or not? I’m trying to help you and at the same time keep my patience.”

Louis latches on quickly and Harry pulls him up with a slight grunt before walking off with Louis following meters behind him.

“Where are we going?”

“North tunnel.” Harry limits his answers, because he appreciates silence whereas Louis hates it, hates having to hear the sound of shooting from afar and the engines of the military tanks.

“So you smuggle things there?” They cross a hallway, and Harry stops suddenly, which Louis doesn’t notice fast enough. He bumps into Harry’s broad back.

Harry turns around, face hard, “I suggest you stay quiet.”

“…” Louis blinks at him, “Okay.”

Harry gives him another look over before continuing to walk and turn right to a staircase, and another right. As they reach the very top floor, Harry continues to walk. Louis continues to follow behind him. He really doesn’t appreciate Harry, but he feels like Liam couldn’t be any better with the way he nearly broke his arm with the twist earlier.

Harry stops at the very end and opens a door. It’s open, and inside is a couch, and a single one, a coffee table and papers and dirt scattered around. As both of them are in, Louis closes the door and Harry settles in the couch after dropping his bag next to him.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, observes the man. He’s very … well, broad. His shoulders are wide, and his arms look like it can tear apart his sleeves any time. There are also tattoos littered on his skin (which makes Louis think, because if they are basically near the same age, when did he get his tattoos in the middle of a zombie apocalypse?)(but he stays quiet), a rose, an anchor, a skull, the word ‘silver spoon’, and as well as two birds of different sizes on his chest.

Harry peeks one eye open and Louis quickly diverts his gaze to the large window, “Not wasting time.”

Louis frowns at him, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t waste time.”

//

Harry wakes up, eyes snapping awake. He looks up at the large window to see the sky dark and raining, with Louis sitting on the single couch in front of it. Louis looks at him and hesitates to say, “Had a good sleep?” Harry ignores him.

Harry grunts as he stands up, his back pained because of the uncomfortable couch. He stands up and yawns, stretching. He walks over to the window and takes a look over the area below them. He looks down at Louis before leaning down, “What’s the deal between you and Eleanor, anyway?”

Louis doesn’t answer because Liam is suddenly entering the room and grasping their attention. Harry purses his lips and walks over, “How’s the _trip_?”

“Shut up.” Liam says, “I saw the guns. It’s a lot, Harry. Do you still want to do this?”

Harry grumbles, “Ask me that if I actually have a choice.”

Liam chuckles, shoving Harry’s shoulder playfully, “You prick, admit that you also want the guns.”

Louis can see their friendship, away from the violence and all the hard-shell, although he shrinks slightly as Liam looks back at him, “How are you holding up?”

“I can manage.”

They enter through a door which leads to another room. Liam takes a second to look out the window as he speaks, “Haz, can you pull that bookcase aside?”

Harry looks at the room and spots the bookcase shoved to the corner of the room. He steps around Louis and to the bookcase, holding on to the edges and pulling it to the side. He falls off balance and the bookcase ends up toppling to the floor, “Oops.”

“Nice job.” Louis mutters.

“Let’s see you do better.” Harry shoots back before walking back to Liam, who points a finger towards the window, “Military everywhere.”

“This is all Eleanor’s fault.” Harry speaks, “Why can’t she just ask her men to do it if he’s so goddamn important.”

Louis rolls his eyes but pretends not to hear, but the other two men know he heard. Liam answers back to Harry, “Beggars can’t be choosers. Come on.”

They pass through the hole in the wall that’s once covered with the bookcase. As they make it to the Outskirts entrance, they stay low for there is a patrol up ahead. Flashlights are everywhere, and they try not to be spotted as much as possible.

“Up here.” Harry leads the way. They walk up a trailer to the way up. At the end, he jumps down but he’s instantly jumped by two guards, headbutting him with the gun before dragging him to the side to catch the other two. They stand on their knees, hands behind her backs. A scanner is pressed behind their necks as the guards speak to their transceivers and letting their backup know where they are. As one is pressed to Louis’, he panics, because _no, no, fuck no._ He grabs the knife on his back pocket and stabs the guard at the thigh.

The other one shoots for Louis but Liam tackles him to the ground and Harry helps Louis take out the first one. Louis sits on the concrete ground, chest heaving with deep breath as his eyes widened in horror.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry ask.

“I-I panicked.” Louis admits, throat closing up.

“Eleanor’s right.” Harry sighs, “You really aren’t capable for your age. Didn’t the Fireflies teach you back at their camp—“

“Harry.” Liam cuts their argument off, standing up with the scanner in hand, “Harry.”

Harry looks at the man and Liam tosses him the small machine. Harry catches it in his hand and looks at the flashing red, “ **INFECTED** ”

Both of them stands over Louis, who is forced to stay down, “Eleanor set us up?!”

“She didn’t!” Louis gasps out.

“So, this thing is a lie, then?” Harry throws the machine at him, and it hits Louis near the face, “We’re not doing this shit for an infected.”

Liam speaks up, “Where is it?”

Louis hesitates, but rolls up his sleeves and sure enough, a large bite is there, dry and growing a bit of fungus, “It’s nearly there for a month!”

“Stop bullshitting me.”

“I’m telling the truth! Eleanor didn’t set you up!” Louis sounds like he’s begging, because he is.

They hear a patrol truck park nearby , and they whip around, “Shit, shit shit, Liam, run!”

They jump back down from where they went up using the trailer as soldiers scatter around the area, another one checking the dead ones back up. The rain patters into their skin, wetting their clothes even more. Louis, being the first timer, manages to swallow down his fear and man up. He _was_ trained for this, after all, and he has a knife. He stays closed to Harry and Liam, who uses their strength and legs to run and jump through discarded rods, trucks, and hide behind tall walls as a protection from the soldier’s.

Harry gets spotted from a soldier on top of the cliff and he runs and fits in through a culvert, crouching down as small as he can with his large size. The way through isn’t long, and he finds his way out quickly, but Liam and Louis aren’t with him. Focusing on his own safety, he jumps down to an abandoned building with majority of its walls broken. The water from the rain is mixed the dirt from the ground and flowing through where Harry is. He hates it, despises that he’s wet once _again_ and he’s been wearing the same clothes for three days now, but he’s hidden now.

As he climbs up to get to the other doorway to get to the back of the building, he meets with Liam and Louis, “It’s fucking crazy up there, Harry.”

Harry looks at Louis, “You good?” Louis nods.

It’s hard maneuvering themselves in the rain and the dark with the soldiers patrolling around. It’s just the worst combination; they’re just thankful that there’s no infected to join the mix, if Louis isn’t considered as one.

They sneak past the soldiers and their threatening flash lights and to another culvert. At the end of the pipe is a building, protected and doesn’t seem to break down anytime. “Thank fucking God.” Harry drops down to the floorboard, his hair long and wet until the start of his back. Liam sits beside him as Louis struggles out of the pipe before settling down beside Harry.

“We have to get out of here soon, at least get to the rooftop.” Liam stands up, ready once again, “They can still worm themselves through that pipe anytime. Come on.”

“I swear those two words are your favorite.” Harry sits up and stands up. He rolls the sleeve of his black shit further up his shoulder so his whole arm is showing, wet and glistening with the rain. He sticks his hand into his back pocket and grabs a hair tie, gathering his hair in one hand and pulling it into a tight ponytail.

Liam notices Louis’ gaze and pats his shoulder, “Mate, come on. We don’t have all day. Let’s just survive through the night.”

Louis nods quickly, “Of course.”

They go through the building, but is disappointed to see another batch of soldiers which leads Harry grumbling himself. They stealth past them, after Liam stops Harry from shooting them, saying that the gun will attract the other’s attentions. Harry agrees.

They’re sure they’re safe as they go through the sewers, with soldiers only walking up there and still keeping on watch, oblivious to the fact that the suspects are _under_ them. The sewers are short; they go straight ahead to the exit. Harry pushes the metal up and allowing Louis and Liam to exit before Liam pulls it open from the other side for Harry to exit as well.

They take a break by the rocks, the rain still pattering down but weakly this time. “So..” Liam starts to question, “What do you think will happen if we deliver you to the Fireflies?”

“You get your guns.” Louis shrugs.

“I mean,” Liam rolls his eyes, “What will happen to _you?”_

“Eleanor said something about doctors being in their own quarantine… finding a cure and saying that what happened to me is a part of it.” Louis explains.

“We’ve heard that before.” Harry states the fact, “It’s really quite familiar now.” It’s true, because there are so many betraying and believable people spreading news around and raising people’s hopes up.

“I’m telling the truth, you asshole.”

“Maybe that’s why Eleanor’s so protective of you and not allowing you to go through town by yourself.” Liam looks at Harry, “He _is_ important, Harry.”

“Liam, I don’t even know, alright? We nearly got killed with those fucking soldiers, what more with them _and_ the infected around now that we’re out of our zone?” Harry argues back, because Liam is being ridiculous, extremely ridiculous and if he can, he can just abandon this little twink here and make him go to their camp on their own. But-

“I thought you wanted the guns, too, Harry?”

Harry scoffs, “I’m not risking my life after fifteen years because of guns, Liam. I can easily get them—“ _Right._

“Oh, bullshit.” Liam stands up, “You’re as desperate as me, Harry. You need those guns, too. What will happen to us if we ran out of cards, huh?”

“You believe this guy?” Harry gestures towards Louis, “He’s old enough to send himself to his group on his own Liam. He’s not far from my age; he’s only two years younger than me.”

“His age has got nothing to do with his strength and ability, Harry.” Liam slowly says, “If you want to go back, then go. I can take care of this myself, but don’t expect me to share those guns when I come back.”

“It’s always you, isn’t it? It’s always you making the decisions.” Harry flails his arms, “I thought we’re both in this?”

Liam scoffs, “You have the nerve to say that? That we’re both in this when you’re the one giving up when we’re already halfway through?” Harry stays quiet, because of course; Liam is right, “Look, Harry. We just have to cut through downtown and we should be at the Capitol by sunrise. Just a little bit more, Harry.”

Harry looks at Liam and shakes his head before shouldering past his practical brother.

//

“This is the good idea, Liam?” Harry asks as they look up at the building, which looks like a museum. Harry thinks museums are creepy, with historical things and bones and pictures of old people. He’s been into one before when he was… nineteen with this group and he’d get creeps every time he sees a replica of people that lived decades ago.

“We just need to get to the rooftop; there we could see the Capitol.” Liam says, “Come on.”

“It looks like it’s going to fall apart.” Louis observes the building, it’s positively leaning towards to the left, a little under 90 degrees.

“It’s not.”

There was a huge bell as they enter, the ceiling above broken through. “Wait a second.” Harry opens a few drawers and curses when they’re empty, “People are so selfish these days.”

“Found a rag.” Louis purses his lips, “You can make a Molotov?”

“Let’s see if we can find the other shit.” Harry murmurs, snatching the rag from Louis and shoving it into the pocket of his bag.

They climb through the hole in the ceiling to another floor, and it was… well, broken. “We need to keep quiet. There can be some infected walking ‘round here.”

“I’m shitting my pants.” Louis huffs, quite breathless.

“Just stay close.” Harry said somewhere behind him.

As they climb up into another ceiling, the thunder roared, and it made Louis jump. The other two men were obviously used to all this; hunting and killing. Everything was broken, messy and out-of-place. The antiques were broken, and so were the wooden cabinets and the replicas of the historical people before scattered around.

“Through here.” Harry crouches down and lifts up a long and thick piece of wood holding up debris.

“Fucking.” Louis shudders –he hates hates _hates_ crawling through small openings— as he follows Liam through the small space. Harry’s arms were shaking, and his face showed struggle, but right when Louis had gotten through the other side, the wood broke and the debris fell, effectively separating them.

“Harry!” Liam calls out in alarm, “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry grunts, sitting up from where he fell on his arse, “Don’t worry. I’ll make my way around to you guys—“

They were cut off with the familiar moaning and groaning of the infected from Liam and Louis’ side. Harry slowly says, “Liam, get out of there, go!” He hears their footsteps and the sounds get nearer until it eventually falls quiet.

Harry stands up, shaking and slapping his flashlight against his palm to work the batteries, “Can’t have you dying on me right now.”

As he goes through another hole which leads to a long and wide room, he spots two infected, walking around and aimlessly looking for a victim. Harry takes out his shiv, hand tight over the handle. He kept his footsteps light but firm. His knees hurt from crouching and walking at the same time but it’s still bearable. The worst he can get is a bite.

The dead beast arches its back and continues to walk further. Harry turns his flashlight off, eyes and ears alarmed. When the infected gets too far, he decides to just leave it, but as he goes through the other doorway, he is surprised by another one.

He’s seen, and he’s tackled to the ground by the weight. The infected is hovering above him, teeth barred and neck reaching forwards. Harry stops the force with a forearm on its throat, before he surges up with the other hand, stabbing deep into the infected head and another one on its temple. It grows limp and .. well, dead. For a second time.

He continues to crouch down, panicked breaths beginning to start but he wills them down. He goes up quietly using the stairways. The thunder sounds again and the building groans. They really need to get out of there fast. He reaches a hall and another infected is banging on a closed door. He sneaks up to it and dives his shiv into the infected’s forehead a few times.

“Get the fuck back, Louis!”

Harry snaps to the door and kicks it open. He nearly stumbles until he flashes his flashlight towards the grunt heard. Liam is pinned to the wall with his arms trying to stop the zombie from biting onto his skin. Liam hits him with a wooden plank and its head burst open from the hard impact.

“You alright?” Harry asks in relief.

“Guys, help me out here!” Louis yelps from the other room.

Harry and Liam barges in, and Liam takes out the nearest runner with a blow to the head. Louis is stabbing another quite too many before he’s attacked by another. Harry pushes the one who is trying to get a bite on his neck. The push stuns the zombie, and Harry takes the second to aim at the one attacking Louis. He nails it before he uses the last ammo to shoot the one nearest to him. _Incredibly risky._

As he runs to break free, he reloads his gun, but it falls out of his grip as he’s pushed into a cabinet with the glass broken through. He winces at the sharp glass pressing into his skin before he head butts the zombie, and pushes it backwards. He flaunts the dead to the ground before stepping on its head with mighty force and impact, the weak bones and tissues of the runner giving in from Harry’s foot.

“Is that all of them?” Harry questions as he picks up his gun to continue reloading, “Holy shit.”

“Harry, your shoulder is bleeding.” Louis points out, and Harry presses a hand on it to remove his bag pack and grab a bandage to wrap his slight cut with.

Liam comes closer, “Fuck, you’re bitten, Haz?”

“What, no.” Harry answers and zips up his bag as soon as he gets his wound patched up, “Stupid runner pinned me up against the glass.”

“Alright, let’s get out of here.” Liam looks up from a window before using his axe to knock off the left glass from the window, “This will take us to the roof.”

He jumps out and carries on jogging up on the stairs leading to the very top. Harry presses a hand on his shoulder and winces. He looks at Louis, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m still breathing.” Louis nods, “Quite.”

Harry vaults the window and he follows Liam. The sun is starting to rise, and all three of them couldn’t be more thankful. The storm has stopped, leaving a cold breeze to settle with the morning air. “There,” Liam points to a building, catching the attention with the circular top, “We’re quite near.”

“Good.” Louis breathes out.

//

“I hate getting wet.” Louis puts it out as they step though a swampy street, the dirty water up until their calves. They’re very near, though. Once they enter that building, there will be Fireflies waiting for them and they will remember Louis and then they can go back to their original camp. He almost got killed but at least it’s over now.

“We’re literally meters away.” Liam informs. He’s already at the steps, and Harry and Louis are still struggling to get out of the water.

“Fucking—“ Harry struggles to untangle his boot from whatever what’s on the ground. He manages, “—finally.” Harry breathes out, “Job done.”

Liam opens the large double doors but he instantly freezes, slowly stepping to the side to let the other two in. All three of them stare dumbfounded at the scattered _corpses_ of the Fireflies, lying dead and bloody, “No.” Liam mutters, “Fuck!” He yells, his voice echoing. He approaches one man and kneels down, patting him down and checking his pockets.

“Liam, _what_ are you doing?”

“There has to be a fucking map somewhere here- they can’t just … j-just turn _dead_ all of a sudden.” It’s… surprising how vulnerable and desperate Liam looks. During the span of five years being together, Harry only saw that side of Liam once, and that’s when they first met.

Liam looks at Louis, “You, you should know where your group is.”

“Eleanor said … said something about the lab in the west?” Louis says with uncertainty, “She never mentioned It too much…”

“Liam.” Harry says slowly, “We’re not ... you’re not actually serious on following them again, right?”

“West.” Liam ignores Harry’s comment, “Harry, you have … you have to take him there.”

“No, we have to stop this bullshit.” Harry growls. They will surely get killed if they went on, “You want us to take him to the west? Out there? Well listen, Liam, I’m _not_ taking another shot at this. We’re going to go home and we’re not crossing the fucking country because of something we barely believe.”

Louis stays quiet in the background. He doesn’t blame them, but he really is telling the truth. He got bitten after he thought he was brave enough to go to an area which was off-limits. He’d waited for his time, and he’s glad that he did because nothing bad is yet happening.

“This is my last stop, Harry.” Liam lets out.

Harry scowls, “What?”

“You’re going to take him to the Fireflies and—“

“What the hell is going on? Why are you pressing this onto me all so sudden?”

“He’s…” Louis puts two and two together, and he almost shrinks back when the two men looks at him, “He’s infected.”

Harry misses a few beats, but he looks back at Liam with a look of offense. He steps back, “Where is it?”

Liam shakes his head and pulls back his collar to show the bite, bleeding slightly and open. Liam’s blood has dripped down further down his neck and staining his collar. Harry chokes on his breath, “Fucking Christ.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Liam shrugs, as if it’s fucking nothing, then he sees Louis and grabs the lad’s wrist, tugging up his sleeve and showing the dry bite, “This is real.”

“How can you even—“

“I was bitten an hour ago and it’s already worse. This has been here for three weeks.” Liam concludes, “You take him to Gemma. I need you to just—“

“No! Jesus, Liam!” Harry exclaims, throwing his arms in the air, “This is your fucking campaign, alright? And you can’t leave me with something that’s supposed to be your duty!”

“This is _our_ duty!” Liam growls, “And I’m asking you to finish it so you can get the guns and live your life without starving to death! Think of it like an obligation to me. I need you to do this.”

Louis doesn’t want to interrupt, he really doesn’t, but he hears an engine and he looks out the large window to see a military trunk right in front and stopped across the swamp, “They’re here.”

“You need to go.” Liam pushes Harry forward, “I will buy you some time, but I’m going to need you two to run.”

“We’re just going to leave you here?” Louis asks, heart rising in his throat.

“I am not turning into one of those monsters.” Liam says in finality and gives Harry one last shove to get them to move.

Harry speaks to Louis, “Move.” But he spends two, three, four seconds looking and remembering Liam’s eyes before running off to the nearest door that leads to another room.

“I didn’t mean for this, I’m so sorry.” Louis speaks quietly and they wince as they hear gunshots from the other room. They’re loud and incredibly piercing.

“Drop it.” Harry says firmly before jogging past him and up to the stairs. From the second floor, they crouch to the ground and peer down from the balcony circulating the whole first floor where Liam’s body already lay dead and bloody, a gunshot wound on his stomach and another on his shoulder.

“Fuck.” Louis curses, “They’re going to be here soon.”

“Target neutralized.” They can hear one of the soldiers speak into their transceivers, “He took out two of my men and injured one. Copy that.”

They continue to run for their escape. Harry leads the way, entering a room where a lot of discarded desk are. There is a large hole in the wall and another on the new wing. It’s quite a jump, but both of them make it. Harry spots a dead Firefly by sitting by a wall beside a long corridor. Harry kneels down to take the loaded shotgun and putting away his pistol. He reloads it quick.

At the other end appear a guard and another, keeping on watch. They duck down behind some tables. Harry holds a hand to Louis who’s on the other one. He peeks out to see the shadows, before sprints into another room with Louis following him.

“Where are we supposed to go?”

“We just have to exit the damn building.” Harry answers, “Through that hall.”

They duck down behind one of the large pots of plants as they make it through the hall. There is a guard at the other end, pacing around slowly, “Stay here, and when I take that guard down, you follow, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Louis breathes out.

Harry bends down at his waist and winces as his shoes makes a slight slushy sound from how wet it is. It goes unnoticed by the guard. Harry grabs him and pulls him down to prevent the guard for balance. Harry pushes his forearm against the man’s throat, particularly by the base with his other hand against the back of his head. The man drops his gun and reaches backwards, but he falls unconscious. Harry knows he can do so much better, strangle him straight to death but it takes too much time.

He turns around to signal Louis but the man is already behind him. He checks the drawers; it’s an unavoidable habit before shoving whatever he finds in his bag pack. He cuts through the corridor using the rooms. They sneak past the guards, however when Louis nearly gave them out because of a small trip, Harry hisses, and Louis apologizes with his eyes.

At the end of the corridor was a stairway and all they need is get back down and out of the building. When they’re successful, they run past the parked truck of the military before entering the abandoned subway. As they get deeper into it, the dark swallows them.

“They’re here! They’re in the subway!” A couple of guards spot them, and they take advantage of the dark and hide behind one of the boxes scattered. On the way, Harry removes his gas mask out of his belt and into face as spores begin to appear. He pays close attention to Louis as the man takes no notice about the spores.

Louis suddenly pulls him down for cover, and Harry knits his eyebrows in confusion, “How the hell are you inhaling all of this?”

Louis sighs, evening out his breathing, “You didn’t want to believe me.”

Harry pushes it at the back of his mind and listens closely, “No target, I repeat, no target.”

“Did you spot them?”

“No, it’s empty.”

“Let’s get out of here as soon as we find them before the infected show up.”

Harry looks back at Louis, “You know how to kill, right?”

“My shiv’s broken.” Louis murmurs, showing him the shiv whose handle is starting to fall apart. Louis nods nonetheless, “I can manage.”

“You’ll hurt yourself trying,” Harry reaches behind him to the side pocket of his bag pack, “Take this.” He hands him the small weapon. Louis grips it hard.

They use the soldier’s flashlights as a signal, and they wait until one is near enough before Harry springs up grabs the man by the neck and stabbing through his throat with his own knife. He hears Louis move to another cover, targeting the soldier patrolling near the trains. It’s hard to see with the thick, infected air, but Harry follows after Louis in ease.

As Louis takes out the last soldier, he bends down again to grab their weapon before handing it over to Harry. Harry looks at it for a second before taking it, snapping it into his holster.

“Alright,” Harry’s voice echoes, “Let’s find an exit.”

They jog through the railings but the further they do, the deeper the water gets. As the water reaches their knees, both of them remove their pistols out of their holsters and puts them inside their bag. The water doesn’t end yet, so the two removes their bags and lifts it up over their head to prevent their weapons to get wet.

Harry huffs, “I hate getting wet.”

“Me, too.”

Both of them jump slowly and carefully into the water, and it’s difficult with their hands up and carrying their bags which both holds kilograms because of the guns. However, as they do so, Harry hears a splash and a choking sound behind him. With one hand on the flashlight, he shines it towards the smaller man, “You alright?”

“It’s just deep.” Louis coughs, squinting at the light, “Drank some of it.”

“Filthy.”

They swim around, trying to find the floor once again and out of the drowned train railings. “Over there.” Louis points and swimming to the direction of where he points, keeping his head afloat as much as possible. He slides his bag away on the tiled floor and pulls himself up and gets to his feet, but then crouches down near the edge and holds his arms down for Harry to take. Harry hands him his bag and pulls himself up as well. They take their bags, carrying them in their hands because practically their whole body is wet, before Harry passes Louis wordlessly.

Louis sighs and follows him, arms and legs beginning to ache. At the end of that turn is a staircase and Harry sighs loudly in relief. They run up and to the fresh air.

Harry removes his gas mask and latches it back to the holster before he sits down at a large rock to take a breather, head tilted back as he enjoys the sunlight. He drops his bag beside him as Louis does the same.

Louis takes deep breaths, too, making a move to remove his wet denim jacket (disgusting) but Harry stops him, “What are you doing?”

“Taking my jacket off…?”

“No, that jacket stays on you.” Harry says firmly as if he’s authority, “No one will know about your condition, unless you want to get killed?”

He has a point. Louis shakes his head quickly and pulls his jacket back on, “Look, about Liam back there—“

“Don’t mention Liam, or better yet, anything.” Harry stands up, “Let’s keep everything to ourselves. It’s a simple drop-off and I hope to god this all ends quickly as expected.”

Louis sighs and chooses to look around. The streets are empty and dirty. Cars and dead bodies are scattered. Houses still look stable but the doors and windows are broken through. Louis shudders and quickly quits his observation, “What’s your plan, then?”

Harry stands up, facing behind him and scratching at his stubble, “There’s a town north, a few miles from here. Someone owes me some favors, so there’s a good chance he can get us a car.”

“…Lead the way.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We need a car.” Harry ignores his comments.
> 
> Niall scoffs, “Yeah, of course, I’ll give away my only fucking car, if I have one.”
> 
> Harry slams his hand to a table, cursing, “Fuck. And I thought you could help us.”
> 
> “He still will because he owes you some favors.” Louis snaps.
> 
> “What makes you think that they sum up to a fucking car?” Niall shoots, putting down his machete.
> 
> “Actually, Niall, they do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another one! The reason I'm updating so fast, is because I actually want to delete this from my files yeah ha.

 

**SUMMER**

**“You know, as bad as those things are, at least they’re predictable. It’s the normal people that scare me.” – Bill**

 “Through here. Kind of a shortcut.” Harry leaves the highway and jumps through the railing and into an overgrown area, full of trees and plants and insects. Louis follows after him. The grasses are long now, tall and untrimmed. The trees are strong and everything’s greener now. He remembers when he’s a kid, the city barely contains nature and it’s all about industry and smoke and technology.

“Why can’t you just take me back to Eleanor?” Louis asks, fidgeting a loose fabric on his jacket.

Harry hears birds chirping before he sees a flock by a puddle of water. He scares them away with his footsteps, “You still want to go back to the city after all that we’ve triggered? I’m sure military’s gone haywire now.”

“Well, I mean.. you didn’t want this job in the first place.”

“Hey, I’m doing this for my guns, and my livelihood.” Harry answers. Which is true as hell. The sun is beautiful. Neither of them knows the time, but it looks like a little after noon. Still quite early, “You must’ve forgotten my deal with Eleanor.”

“Right, double your shit.” Louis sighs, “I must be quite important, then.”

Harry glances back at him, “What’s more important than the cure for humanity?”

“Good, you believe me now.”

Harry scoffs, “You said that yourself.”

As they keep walking, they reach a gate, but it’s rusted shut with barbed wires all along the metal fences. Harry climbs on the nearest shed and looks around. He sees a rising smoke from afar, “Please let that be you.”

“Have you been here before?” Louis asks from the ground but Harry ignores him, gesturing to the wooden plank on the ground. Louis grabs it for him and leans it against the shed for Harry to get.

Harry makes a makeshift bridge as he connects the shed to another. From there, they jump down and continue their walk. “So, this guy.” Louis begins, “He’s a close friend?”

“Not exactly.” Harry jumps down and they start seeing few buildings with the forage, “He just owes me a few things.”

“He’s going to give us a car?”

“We won’t know for sure.” Harry jumps down and swings a metal door open, “He can be kind of a jackass, if you ask me.”

“How come?”

“Too paranoid about everything. Almost killed me because of his traps scattered every inch of his town.” Harry informs him, jogging up the stairs and going through every room to steal any usable stuff.

“That’s a bad thing?” Louis stays in the hall, “Him being careful and stuff?”

“He’ll end up blowing his own head off if he forgets at least one of his traps.” Harry emerges from the room, handful of stuff in his hands, “You have room for your bag?”

Louis turns around wordlessly and Harry walks closer to zip open his bag. Inside was a bottle of water, a gun, a small box of ammos, his broken shiv, a rope, and a comic book. Harry puts his loot there and zips it closed once again, “For a guy at twenty-three, I doubt that they still read comics.”

They take a few minutes stealing stuff in the building before they come down again. They come across a gate which is jammed from the other side. “Fuck.” Harry huffs, jostling with the gate.

“Boost me up.” Louis says, “Come on. You know I’m light enough.”

Harry warns him, “If you so much try anything—“

“As if I can survive out there on my own.” Louis cuts him off, and he realizes that he admitted that he’s not capable of going out there alone. Harry stands by the gate and turns around so his back is towards the gate before bending a knee, placing his hand on it with his palms facing up. Louis steps his foot on Harry’s hands before using his other foot as leverage. He lumps up the same time Harry lifts him up. He latches on top of the gate and swings his legs around before jumping down. He pulls off the latch before swinging the door open, “Ta-da.”

They’re on the street now, and there are shops and cars. They make their way to the alley, but Harry sticks his arm up in alarm in front of Louis to stop him. Louis looks up at him, “What—“

“You’re right; you wouldn’t have survived if you left me back there.” Harry suddenly says.

Louis frowns, arching an offending eyebrow towards the tall man, “What the fuck?”

Harry grabs his chin and turns it to the direction of the other end of the alley, “You didn’t even notice the tripwire.”

“It’s not like it can do any harm—“

They hear the familiar grunting of the infected, and Harry pushes Louis behind him and steps back, readying his shotgun. He is about to shoot but the infected suddenly explodes as soon as it makes contact with the tripwire.

“Oh, wow, you’re right.” Louis breathes out, “Alright, I’ll be more careful.”

Harry sighs, “Good thing I didn’t waste my ammo.”

They keep walking and further and further, they see each of the traps. But as they round into a corner, Louis is gushing out, “Woah, woah, woah.” before he rushes over to a single couch. There’s a body resting on it, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up as Louis picks up a bow and hands it to him, “Look.”

“Good job, kid.” Harry grabs it and puts his shotgun aside for a second.

“Kid? I’m the same age as you.”

Harry bends down to forcefully remove the arrows intact with the person’s body, before keeping them safely in a quiver that’s also srapped onto the person. He swings it onto himself with the arrow and bow in it.  He moves to a trailer and boosts up Louis one more time before Louis pulls him up. Louis stretches his back, “I think you’re heavy because of your weapons.”

“Want me to throw them all away and lower our chance of survival?” Harry crosses to another building with the wooden plank already set up.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Harry uses the plank to cross more buildings before they come across a runner, standing solitary below them. Harry smiles wickedly before grabbing his bow and grips it the right way. Louis stands back and observes the man. He can’t help but see the man’s muscles stretch and contrast as Harry obliviously aims the arrow towards it head. As he lets go, the arrow shoots straight through the dead’s head.

Harry grins in triumph and looks back at Louis. Louis snaps his gaze away.

They jump down and Harry retrieves his arrow and keeping it once again. They enter a large building. They loot a little, and Harry takes a little time making a Molotov and stuffing it in his bag, careful not to spill, “Stupid drawers, such teasers.”

Louis opens the next door, but he tilts his head to the side in confusion as he sees a fridge hanging on the ceiling, but it falls to the ground and it strings him upside down by his leg. Harry rushes in, stumbling slightly, and steadies him, “Fuck, you set off a weight trap. What a bloody idiot.”

“Not very smart of me.” Louis shakes his head as the blood rushes to his head.

Harry looks around quickly before he sees the fridge, “I’m going to cut off the rope of the fridge. It looks like it’s the counterweight.”

Louis gulps, “Faster, please?”

“Sure.” Harry runs to the fridge and pushes it until it lies on its side, which raises Louis higher. Harry uses his shiv to cut the rope, but he gets distracted as one infected approaches Louis, and another, and another.

“Fuck, Harry!” Louis grabs his sharp weapon from his pocket and stabs the infected attacking him. It’s really not his best idea to keep his gun into his bag. Another approaches Harry and he takes a moment to let go of the fridge and shoot the zombie dead. He shoots the other two trying to get to Louis before he rushes back to the fridge.

Louis slowly turns lightheaded but he focuses grips the infected by the neck to keep it away but he’s swinging a little back and forth. He stabs it at the center of the head before dragging the blade to the side, blood spurting out before he lets the infected drop to the floor.

“Harry!”

“Just a little bit of time, alright?” Harry steps on the fridge and kicks off the infected trying to gnaw at his feet. He aims his shotgun to the rope, why didn’t he think of that before, before he shoots. It effectively cuts through and Louis is dropped to the floor. He groans in pain but is attacked by another again. He gets tackled to the ground. He fights it off, but when he’s about to attack, Harry saves him and cuts the infected’s head off.

He stands up, but… except, that’s not Harry. He’s distracted but is quickly focused when a female infected launches itself to Louis’ back. He turns around and gives the zombie an uppercut before grabbing the backs of its head and slamming its face to the window with the sharp broken glass.

“Let’s run! Too many of them!” They do, and Louis quickly grabs his shiv –Harry’s-  and stays as close to one of them as possible. He doesn’t have time to open his fucking bag and grab his gun. That one action can risk his life alone.

They exit the garage, there’s trucks blocking both ways. “Niall, where the hell are we going?” Harry calls out, reloading his shotgun quick.

“We’ll –ah.. Come on, just follow me!”

“Goddamn it.” Louis curses. They climb on the truck, but another latches on to Harry’s leg. Harry turns on his back and shoots before he’s scrambling on forward.

Louis kicks his legs faster but apparently he isn’t fast enough because Harry shouts at him, “Louis, move! Come on!”

Niall leads them to a laundromat and closes the door quickly, “That won’t hold long, come on!”

Once they get through the exit, the entrance of it gives in and they spring into action once again. They don’t bother looking back and shooting because they don’t want to waste the ammo and accidentally trip and die.

“They’re coming from everywhere!”

They exit the laundromat and to an alley. Harry nearly trips at the cut-off limb on the ground but he regains himself quickly and runs faster than ever, but not enough for his legs to take too far. Louis feels the real fear rising up in his throat. Ever since he’s out of the city, he’s never felt so unsafe in his life with all the infected around. Fuck, they can’t even rely on the military. All Louis has is the Fireflies, and at the moment, he only has Harry.

“Through the trailer, come on!” Harry pushes Louis in the trailer first before they reach the other end. Niall fumbles with his key and the fucking lock.

“Anytime, Niall.” Harry switches to his pistol to shoot better. He shoots as many infected he can before Louis’ pulling at his shirt and entering the bar. The two large men cover the door and latch on it. The man takes off his gas mask, and he’s blonde –dyed, obviously.

Louis releases a breath, “Hey, thanks for saving our asses there. I’m um… Louis.” He offers his hand but the blonde suddenly grips his wrist and handcuffs him to a loose pipe.

“Niall.” Harry warns but Niall’s pulling out his gun and pointing it to Harry. Louis struggles to pull at the rusty pipe as he watches Niall force Harry to turn around and kick at the back of his knees to make Harry kneel down.

“Hey!” Louis growls but Niall ignores him.

“Bites?” Niall points the mouth of the gun to the back of Harry’s head and Louis panics even more, “Anything bleeding?” The aggressive blonde sees the bandage on Harry’s shoulder before he tears it off painfully.

Harry cries out and he pushes one hand into the deep cut from the museum. “I’m clean, fuck!” Harry grunted, “Would’ve killed myself if I was.”

“Let him go!” Louis manages to pull out the pipe, water dripping from it. He charges to the blonde man and hits him hard on the head and the back repeatedly.

Harry stands up and calls out in a firm tone, “Louis, stop.” And he removes his hand from his shoulder. Little blood has stuck to his palm, but he pays no mind to it as he focuses his attention to Niall who was clutching the back of his head. (Niall is an asshole, but they need a car.)

“He was going to fucking shoot you—“ Louis tries to defend but his wrist is gripped and Harry slides the pipe from the handcuff and drops it. The curly lad looks at the smaller man with a sharp glare, “Shut up. Don’t say anything if you don’t want to lose our chance.”

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Niall spits out, a hand behind his head and wincing, “And who the hell is this, Harry? Nevermind that— Because of you two, I have to reset all my traps and make sure I’m not bitten to shreds when I get out to the door.”

“We need a car.” Harry ignores his comments.

Niall scoffs, “Yeah, of course, I’ll give away my only fucking car, if I have one.”

Harry slams his hand to a table, cursing, “Fuck. And I thought you could help us.”

“He still will because he owes you some favors.” Louis snaps.

“What makes you think that they sum up to a fucking car?” Niall shoots, putting down his machete.

 “Actually, Niall, they do.”

“Well, I don’t own any car that works, that’s for sure.” The blonde says, suddenly out of his anger state.

“There sure as hell at least one in this town.” Harry insists. If they don’t get a car, they’ll never survive. They still have miles ahead of them, and Harry desperately wants to finish this all off after he puts all of this into Gemma’s shoulders.

“We need to collect the parts first.” Niall informs. Louis stops himself from groaning.

“Of _course_.” Harry doesn’t mind voicing out his thoughts.

Niall lays out a small map, ripped at the edges.He points to an area before speaking, “It’s on the other side of town and you need to help go gather it, fix up a car, _then_ give it to you. But after this, I owe you nothing.” He slams a key on the table and Harry quickly takes it and turns to Louis. He grabs Louis’ arm and unlocks the handcuffs before throwing them away.

“Everything in his town has got some traps.” Niall says, “Better stay right on my ass if you don’t wanna die because of a booby trap.”

//

“This is your safehouse, huh?” Harry says as he bends down and swings the cellar’s door open, leading them right down. Louis and Niall follow right back behind him and Niall closes it back up. He jogs to torchlight and lights up his oil lamp.

“Yes,” He answers to Harry’s question, “That other side of town where we need the gear is full of infected; that’s why I never go that side. We need more weapons.”

Harry and Niall walk to a shelf with guns poised. Niall tosses Harry an assault rifle. Harry checks for ammo before reloading it. Niall does the same to him, “What’s going on with that punk?”

“It’s just a simple drop-off.”

“He looks like he can take care of himself.” Niall eyes Louis, “Why is Liam approving of this?”

Harry averts his gaze to the ground before looking back at Niall, “It’s actually his idea.”

“Well, where the hell is he?” The blonde walks round the table and fumbles around with a small box, “Why can’t you just send that kid off to his own way? He looks capable.”

“It’s…” Harry purses his lips, eyes observing the lad as Louis checks and fixes the stupid pile of books and comics, “I need something in return.”

“If you keep this long enough, it’s going to blow up on your face.” Niall informs with a little shrug, “That’s what happened to me- Hey!”

Louis comes over and crosses his arms, glaring, “What?” He jumps a little but manages to catch the revolver.

Niall glares, “Don’t accidentally shoot yourself.”

Louis grips it, “I’m capable of holding a gun, alright.”

“And actually making a shot worth?”

“Let’s just go.” Harry cuts off the bickering men. They go up the stairs and is met with the altar of the church. It looks like it’s about to fall apart, Harry thinks, _but aren’t everything else?_

Harry enters a room. There’s a mattress and some shit lying around in the corner. Niall shouts, his voice echoing, “That’s my room!”

Harry steals a few pills, “I’m not touching anything.”

He meets out where Niall’s standing beside a window, waiting patiently as Louis looks around as well, “You done?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Harry climbs out the window, Louis follows and as well as Niall.

The sun’s about to set, and fuck, Harry needs that car before evening if they’re sparring in the dangerous part of Niall’s shit town.

//

They go through a house after nearly getting killed by a horde of fucking infected which awfully looked like a bunch of teenagers. They had to go through the school and to the lab. They didn’t manage to kill them all, because a whole school is enough to take two armed men, and one _poorly_ skilled man.

“Drop it, drop it!” Harry pushes down the ladder from the other side of a tall fence and watches as the infected struggle to keep up with them.

“Fuck, let’s go in here.” Niall leads them inside the house and locks the door, “We need to find more supplies.”

All three of them separate ways, and to be honest, Harry’s hesitant to leave Louis alone, afraid that he’ll get lost or stumble through an infected. The man is fragile, in a way, and Harry can’t afford to lose his only way to get those merchandise. Harry goes upstairs and to a room. His habit of looting has gone too far, and he can’t stop even if his bag is about to explode. In a room, where obviously a teenage boy has once lived. He grabs a comic book and a The Fray album, and he momentarily stares at them before folding it and stuffing it inside his bag.

He goes to another room and he jumps, “Jesus Christ,” as he sees a dead body lying horizontally on her bed. He approaches it and begins to loot, but he stops as he sees a piece of paper pinned in the lamp. He reads it, eyebrows furrowed. The letter sounds promising; he didn’t finish it, because as he catches sight of the words, _and that battery you’ve been whining about –found it,_ before he’s rushing down the stairs and stomping to the direction he guessed.

He swings the door open and he sees the car with its hood lifted up. Then he sees Louis with a wide grin, seems proud of himself for finding the car, “It’s working.”

Harry tosses the paper aside and crosses his arms, calling out, “Niall!”

Niall rushes into the driver’s seat and tries the ignition. It doesn’t work, but Niall peeks his head out, “Battery’s drained.”

“God, I hate pushing.” Harry groans, putting the rifle back to his holster before stretching his arms, “You gonna drive, Niall?”

“Who else?”

Louis and Harry get at the back of the car as soon as the garage door is opened. They start pushing immediately. The ignition starts up but it only gets to the start of the street before dying once again. Harry and Louis catches up and pushes, but Louis’ eyes widened as he catches sight of some runners standing by, “We need to be careful.”

Harry looks around, “They’re going to see us anyway.”

They push at least two or three meters before the infected acknowledges their presents, sprinting to them like mad men. Harry grabs his loaded rifle and shoots the first one. Louis runs to the other on and uses the revolver to shoot it. This one has a tougher shell, but it stumbles back, falls into the ground and cracks its head into a large point of a rock.

“Behind you, Lou!”

Louis swings around and headbutts the woman in front of him. Too near for the gun. Its teeth nearly latch onto Louis’ arm, but Louis decides to just – _fuck it, I’ll just shoot_. And he does.

“Louis!” Harry calls, “Back to the truck!”

Louis jogs back into his place. There is no moment’s hesitation before they push again. “Alright.” Harry grunts, “We need to get this pickup to the hill at least. Then we’re off. You’re doing a great job.”

“Thanks.” Louis huffs.

They push it until the hill, like Harry said. As Niall is driving down the hill, Harry and Louis are busy killing the other infected trying to run up to them. “Alright, alright, leave them!” They run to the pickup. Harry’s the first one to jump into safety. Louis manages to get a foot in before he’s pulled in much faster by Harry. Although Harry pulls him in before an infected bites onto his leg, the force of Harry’s pull causes his forehead to collide with Harry’s knee.

“Fuck.” Louis sits upright as Niall drives faster and to the street, dropping his pistol and presses the balls of his palms to his forehead.

“Sorry.”

Harry and Louis take the time to rest, watching as the infected run off before they can’t catch up anymore. Louis recovers after a minute, but there’s his skin is still red from the hit that acts as a reminder, “Woah, that’s intense.”

Harry shares a smile, “Having fun?”

“Oh yeah,” Louis snorts sarcastically, “Risking my life every day is fun.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Harry settles, seeming relaxed with the wind, “It’s your fault that they locked you up in that facility of theirs. Didn’t give you the time to train.”

“I was trained, alright? I do have combat skills and I can shoot.” Louis defends, because it’s true. Although he was even more entranced into the first aid stuff.

Harry shakes his head, “Trained as in being alone and facing a horde of _real_ zombies _,_ not lame cardboard cutouts of them.”

“I’m sure you’ve done that.” He shoots back, sass dripping from his tone.

“Fifteen years of survival can sum up to that, and even more, actually.” Harry quirks up an eyebrow.

“You’re like … twenty-three, right?” Louis questions, “Same age as me?”

“Twenty-five, thanks for remembering.”

“Oh.” Louis’ nose scrunches up, “You’re old.”

“I can’t believe I’m having this type of conversation.”

Louis tilts his head to the side, “Do you always think that you’re this type of … tough, dark, douchebag?”

Harry chuckles, before it slowly spirals to a laugh, “That’s what you think of me?”

“And L…” Louis clears his throat, “Yes, actually. You were quite scary, and angry.”

“What a first impression.” Harry shakes his head with a smile before looking out past Louis’ shoulders and into the overgrown area.

They travel for a few minutes before Niall stops the car. Harry jumps down from the trunk and approaches the blonde as he exits the car, “You going?”

“You two should get the fuck out of my town.”

Harry shoves his shoulder, cracking a smile, “We’ll never go back to this hell hole.”

Niall observes his face, “Never seen you smile since the last time I saw you.”

“You last saw me at least two years ago.” Harry points out defensively.

“Whatever, Styles, here.” Niall picks up a siphon and tosses it to Harry, “You’ll be thankful if you find out how much cars still has gas in them.”

 “Alright, alright, we’ll be on our way.”

//

“Another rainy night.” Harry purses his lips as the thunder rolled, “How unlucky.”

“Are we near yet?” Louis asks, his feet up on the board of the car as he leans back.

“I don’t want to disappoint you, but...” Harry glances over, “No, no we’re not.”

“We have a car anyways.” Louis pulls his feet down before reaching for his bag and opening it. Harry speaks up, “You should _really_ stop putting your gun inside your bag. At least put it in your holster.”

Louis grabs his comic book, and surprises Harry when there at least five added, “I don’t have a holster.”

“You can have a makeshift one.” Harry says, ignoring how Louis puts those magazines on his lap and starts to read, “You can grab a slipper –those closed-toe ones- and pin it to your belt facing downwards. You’ll never survive without a holster.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“It’s because you have me.”

“Hm..” Louis hums in approval, “Yeah, but I’ll make sure to grab a damn slipper next time.”

Halfway through the ride, Harry looks over at Louis and his eyebrows shoot up at the sight of a porn magazine (with naked men, yes), held right in front of Louis’ eyes. Harry purses his lips, “Where did you get that?”

“Back at Niall’s.” Louis grins and bats his eyelashes innocently, “It was irresistible.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Sure, it is.” It never crossed his mind that Louis is gay, or at least bi, but now he knows. It makes this more _interesting_ to be honest.

Louis snorts before he rolls down his window and throws the magazine out. Harry laughs, “Irresistible, huh?”

“Eh,” Louis shrugs.

“Grab my bag and take a look at the comic book I got, oh and that album, too.” Harry remembers.

Louis shifts so it’s easier for him to grab Harry’s bag from the back seat. He makes a little sound as he carries it over to place on his lap, “Quite heavy.”

“There’s a lot of treasure in there.”

Louis takes a few minutes to look through before he takes out a comic book and gasps as he takes the album. He zips up Harry’s bag quickly before carefully putting it to the back. He thought the album would look familiar, but, “I think this is actually way before our time.”

 “Just something to listen to.”

Louis shrugs and slides it in, tapping on his leg as he waits for the song to begin. He’s disappointed, and he makes a grunting noise at the slurry, stuttering violin music.

 

“Alright, not so satisfying.” Harry comments. “Aren’t you sleepy? Because I kind of am.” He admits, yawning to prove his point, because he really is tired.

“You’d let me drive? What if I suddenly ran to a group of hunters? Or fellow human beings?” Louis raises an eyebrow, “You can’t trust me on that.”

“You won’t stop for hunters or _fellow_ human beings. Just let me sleep for ten minutes.” Harry stops the car and keeps the engine running.

“Alright!” They switch seats, and Harry buckles himself in and leans against the window to prevent himself a bruise on his forehead if Louis suddenly hit the brakes. He looks at Louis once more before closing his eyes, crossing his arms in habit.

//

Louis feels like he’s going to drop soon. He’s driven all night with the rain stopping halfway. Harry’s ‘ten-minute-nap’ escalated to a little over six hours. Louis decides not to wake him, because Harry deserves sleep after looking after him. He had taken off the album hours ago, just listening to the roar of the engine just so Harry won’t wake up.

Louis stops the car, looking over at Harry as he sees a freeway clogged up with cars and a turnpike. He leans over and shakes Harry awake. He’s had enough sleep anyway, “Harry.”

Harry snaps awake, eyes wide, before he sees Louis and he relaxes again, “What is it?”

Louis points to the highway in front of them and Harry sighs, “Alright, let me drive.”

They switch positions again with Louis asking, “Do we need to go to the freeway?”

“Yeah.” Harry answers, starting up the car once they’re both settled. He thinks, “Fuck it,” before he backs up the car before driving to the turnpike.

Louis observes the rotting hotels and buildings on his window, eyes wide and bright and quite sleepy. Everything is scattered. Cars are everywhere, dead bodies inside or on top of them. Grass is growing taller and the atmosphere feels heavy.

Harry hits the break quite harshly, and Louis looks over him, “Hey, easy-“ The movement meters away from their car catches his attention. There’s an injured man, holding his abdomen with blood all over his hands and torso, “Shit, are we going to help him?”

“Put your seatbelt on.” Harry instructs, pulling his over himself.

Louis follows, but he asks, “What about him?”

Harry takes a deep breath, before he steps on the gas with his foot not even hovering over the brake. “Harry …” Louis begins slowly before Harry’s driving through without any hesitation. The man suddenly reaches behind him and aims a gun towards them.

“Shit, shit shit.”

The man misses his aim, but as they get closer, the dead bodies that Louis’ observing earlier suddenly comes to life, jumping from the cars and from the ground and shooting at their car as much as possible. “Not good, not good.” Louis shouts in panic, turning away as a brick lands on his window and shatters the glass.

He looks to his side and sees an overturned bus. Harry isn’t quick enough, because the bus t-bones them. They lose control and crash into a storefront.

“Shit.” Harry groans, slowly moving his arms to get himself out from being strapped with the seatbelt. He looks over to Louis, who was doing the same, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Louis rushes out. His door suddenly swings open and he’s being grabbed. Louis pulls back to kick the hunter in the gut before he scrambles down for his gun, but the hunter recovers quickly and pulls him out of the car, “Let go of me!”

Harry reaches over the center console to grip Louis’ leg, but another comes behind him and grips his hair hard. Harry doesn’t expect the hunter to slam his head against the console before pulling him out with him stumbling on his steps. “Harry!”

Harry’s pulled into a nearby window before slamming his head against the glass. The window shatters and sharp edges emerge on the bottom. The hunter pushes Harry towards the sharpened edges, but Harry puts his hands on either side of the window and fights against the hunter’s strong grip. He manages and draws a punch to the man’s jaw, before he grabs him by the collar and shoves him to the window. The hunter drops to the ground with a deep cut on his throat.

“Harry!” Louis screams, “Let go of me, you fuck!”

Harry sees the hunter hit Louis. Louis drops to the ground. Harry runs over, his teeth gritted. He blows a kick to the man’s face. He drops to the ground and Harry grips him by the back of his neck before shoving his face into the corner of the table. He repeats it, and he hears a cracking sound. He does it again until the man lays limp in the ground.

“Motherfucker.” Louis grips into his breath before Harry grabs him by the arm and drags him to the pickup. They grab their bags quickly. Louis coughs before his eyes widen, “Look out!”

The window of the car gets shot. Harry ducks down and doesn’t look back as he quickly rushes for cover at the back of a counter with Louis, who scrambles to get his gun out of his bag, reloading it. Harry says to him, “Make every shot worth.”

Harry peeks his eyes out before he ducks down again, “Shit, they’re so many.”

“We can take them.” Louis says before he’s looking out. Harry can’t process it but he’s not quick enough to tug Louis back when the small man runs to a shelf, a few gunshots sounding as he does so but not one bullet landing on him.

It’s all quite a blur; Harry remembers shooting and reloading. He remembers the way he grabs this hunter by the neck and cracking it to the side in an instant. He knows he uses one to threaten another two, until Louis shoots one and the other and Harry shoots the one he has on hostage. He remembers throwing his only Molotov when all of them came rushing all at once, igniting them on burning flames. He also remembers pulling Louis to safety when a hunter throws a bottle at him and it shatters on Louis’ head. It made Louis’ mind stutter for a second before Harry tugs him to the ground and behind the door of a storage room. There’s also where Louis doesn’t realize he’s out of ammo, and there’s only two left, wherein Harry’s battling the other one. He goes to quickly reload after getting the bullets from his bag (he reminds himself to keep his ammo in his pocket or something), but as he peeks out from behind his cover, ready to finish his enemy, but instead he sees Harry driving a knife deep into the hunter’s throat and sliding it to the side.

“That’s the last of them.” Harry bends over and catches his breath, wiping his bloody hands on the dead man’s shirt. He stands back up and sees Louis snapping his gun to his belt, “You alright?”

“I’m good.” Louis sighs out loud.

“Good, let’s get out of here. Find something that we can use.” Harry picks up a few things such as duct tape, a few ammos and another bottle.

“Here.” Louis’ voice echoes.

“Okay, wait a second.” Harry grabs a thick and long stick from the ground and retrieves the scissors and nails he picked up on the way. He takes the end of the stick and crouches down to find a rock as big as his fist. He breaks the scissors apart and hammers the blade of the scissors on the wood, doing it on the other pair and as well as the scissors. It wouldn’t last forever, but it can take out flesh, blood and can actually kill.

“What’s that?” Louis asks as Harry comes over. Harry puts his crafted stick into his holster before crouching down at his knees. He lifts up the rolling gate up until his waist, “Lift this up.” Louis ducks inside but makes no move to assist Harry, “Um…”

“Louis!” Harry calls, the gate too heavy for him. Louis snaps awake before he lifts up the gate himself. Harry ducks down inside before quickly grabbing onto the gate. Together, they slowly bring it down to prevent more sound. Harry turns around, and he sees dead bodies on tables, lifeless and bloody.

“This would have been us.” Harry doesn’t pay any mind to it.

Louis follows him, but stops to observe one. Harry huffs, “Louis, come on.”

“Wait, wait.” Louis reaches with his bottom lip between his teeth. He steals one of the dead tourist’s slippers.

“What are you doing?”

“Makeshifting..ing.” Louis snaps the slippers into his belt, one on each side of his belt, “This won’t fall off, right?”

Harry walks over before he grabs his duct tape. He rips off some pieces with his teeth before taping the slippers to Louis as firm and as tight as possible. He stands up, “Check if it’s stable enough.”

Louis brings his gun down and slips it into the slipper. Harry nods, “That’ll do.”

“Thanks.”

They exit through a back door and Harry goes up the stairs and huffs when he finds the door is barricaded. He overlooks the town and sees the yellow bridge they’ve been aiming for, “That’s the bridge. That’s our way out of here.”

He jumps to the other side of the staircase where Louis is already at. They keep walking, passing through buses and skeletons and graffitis. Louis reads one of the artwork in the wall, “Restoration of humanity.”

“Hm?” Harry asks, turning his head before seeing the graffiti himself, “Oh.”

“Do you believe in it?” Louis catches up to the man.

“In what?”

Louis laughs, “Restoration of humanity.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Louis kicks a pebble, and continuing to do so.

Harry observes his the skill of his feet. Louis can make a proper football player. Harry looks up at the smaller man, “I don’t think ‘humanity’ wouldn’t be as normal as before, even if you came to the picture. I mean, the cure .. shit, all that.”

“Why, though?” Louis’ eyebrows are knitted.

Harry keeps his hands to his pockets, “Look at humanity around us _now._ I don’t know if you do, but for me, there’s no way that humanity can be restored. People are suffering. There are so-called hunters, and even fucking cannibals. I mean, cannibals? Do they even exist back then?”

Louis lets Harry continue, already liking the way Harry would tell about his opinions and perspective of this whole thing right here. Harry continues, “Humanity’s fucked up. It’s not because of the infected; just the desperation to live. It’s been like this for fifteen years, nearly twenty. There are military, hunters, cannibals, tourists, bandits, infected. We have no chance anymore.”

“Hm..” Louis hums, “I’ll take that opinion, but I do have a different perspective.”

A gunshot sounds nearby, and they duck down behind a car where Harry peeks out. There are two hunters standing nearby a barricade, shotgun ready, seeming to be engaged into the conversation. Harry looks back at Louis.

Harry and Louis uses the scattered cars as the hunters walk around. Harry switches to his bow, grabbing an arrow with him. Louis’ behind a few trashbins, shiv in his hand.

The two hunters separate, and Harry stands on one knee and stretches out his bow, his other eye squinting to focus. As the arrow lands on the back of the hunters’ neck, the other one jumps and looks around, gun poised. Harry shoots the other one with another arrow. They come out and Harry can’t help but not notice Louis’ slight pout. He chuckles in amusement, “Wanted to have him, didn’t you?”

“You killed him already.” Louis grabs the used arrows and throws them back at Harry. Harry keeps his arrows and bow and switches back to his hand gun.

They near the barricade and Harry steps on the roof of a car and onto the bus before jumping down. Louis follows him, minding the weapon in his hand as he jumps down, “A checkpoint.”

“Be careful.” Harry keeps his voice hushed, “There’s more inside.”

//

“There’s probably more in the ground floor.” Harry comments, putting back his arrow into a strap in his bag, “Come on.”

They enter a room with an elevator on it; its doors are partially a few inches open. Louis peeks in, “There’s a ladder inside.”

“Shoo.” Harry ushers Louis away and grabs hold of both sides of the doors of the elevator.

Louis huffs, “You can’t be _that_ stro—“ He’s cut off with the groan of the elevator doors as Harry pushes them open until they completely opened.

Harry snorts, “You were saying?”

Louis’ mouth is dry, because _fuck,_ wow. He can never push elevator doors open by his bare hands. It’s probably because of the curly man’s years of hunting and using his hands and legs in everything he does. Even finding food is hell of a difficult task.

They climb the ladder and into a trapdoor. As Harry observes their surroundings, he notices an open way on the other side of the shaft, and the elevator is right there, “Alright. We have to go across.”

Louis slams the trapdoor closed, “What?”

Harry huffs, “We have to go there.” He points to the way.

“Alright.” Harry presses close to the wall and fits himself to the shaft of the elevator.

“This is fucking scary.” Louis holds his breath, “Are you sure this isn’t going to give out?”

“Don’t fucking ask me that.” Harry frowns, “How should I know?”

“Screw it.” Louis holds his breath as he jumps, the elevator below him groaning on the sudden weight. Harry jumps down as carefully and the elevator groans even more.

“Okay, okay. Boost me up so I can pull you up faster.” Louis nods and prepares himself. He boosts Harry up smoothly. Harry quickly kneels down and offers his hands to Louis, “Come on, come on.”

Louis jumps and catches Harry’s sweaty palms, but as soon as he did, the lift gives in and falls to the bottom. Louis yelps and uses his legs to help Harry climb him up. Harry keeps his feet firm to the ground before he pulls Louis up, but as he does so, someone behind him latches their arm around his throat. Harry doesn’t mean it, but his instincts follow. He accidentally lets go of Louis’ hands and wraps his large ones around the man’s forearm. When he’s successful on tugging away from the strangle, the hunter pushes him and Harry lands on his chest. On the very basement, all he sees is water, water, water and no signs of Louis.

He’s relieved, but at the same time scared.

It enrages Harry, and he turns around and tackles the man to the ground. He grabs the man’s wrist, the other one pinning the man’s forearm to the ground. Harry turns the man’s wrist in slight struggle, then he slides his hand up higher and pulls on the trigger when the mouth of the gun points at the man’s head, “Fucking making everything complicated.”

He grabs the gun and quickly crawls back. Down at the basement, Louis’ there. He’s drenched and he’s chocking, his pitiful coughs echoing up to Harry, “Louis!”

“Harry!”

Harry instructs, “Try to get out of the basement! Here!” He drops the hunter’s gun and Louis catches it in his hands.

“Out of the basement, got it!” Louis throws him a thumbs-up. He watches as Harry looks at him one more time before the curly lad disappears. Louis feels shivers on his spine as he looks around in his surroundings. He drops down to the filthy water. He uses his flashlight because fuck, it’s dark. Louis walks slowly and carefully to find the right door. There must be something here.

He shrieks, turning around in alarm as little debris crash into the water. He hears nearby splashing, and fuck, no. This isn’t happening. At the end, he sees a door with what looks like a pass code thing next to it, except a pass code isn’t what he needs, a keycard.

“Great.” Louis punches the door.

He turns around and walks more into the water. He finds a staircase, and he makes his way up, thankful that at least he’s out of the water. He can get away from the risk of tripping into something in the water while being chased or getting his comic book wet. But that’s the least of his worries, he needs the keycard.

It’s a hallway, and Louis enters the first room. He gets nothing but scattered skeletons inside. At the second room, he draws a relieved sigh. It’s a control room, with tv screens and computers. He looks around in the drawers and in the shelves. In a particular drawer, he almost lets out a squeal when he finds a keycard, red and containing a face of a man. He keeps it safe in his hands before he goes back to the door, his pace fast and hurried.

As he tries his keycard, it flashes red. He tries again, still red. Again, again, again. “Are you serious?!” Louis whisper-yells to himself.

He wanders around the control room again, trying to find another keycard. But as he falls defeated, he walks back into the long hallway and down to the stairs. He’s about to give up, plan to just go back to where the elevator is and sit there until Harry comes to get him, when a red flashes in the corner of his eye. He whips to the side and sees a sort of generator.

He runs to it, fucking runs like a maniac. He observes it for a few seconds before he pumps it three times. He hears a whirring sound and a few lights flickering on before falling off. He hears the screaming and hungry noises of the infected. He prepares his gun and runs back to the stairs, barely making it as one infected latches onto his leg. He kicks it back and shoots it. He goes back to the metal door, sliding his keycard and praying to just fucking work. It flashes green.

He goes in and slams the door closed, stepping back against the wall as a few infected slams and bangs from the other side. He catches his breath, “Harry, Harry, right.”

He jogs up the stairs and checks his gun. He opens the door, already has his gun poised as he crouches down. He goes to a room and quickly ducks down to a clothed table as he spots two hunters. He needs to make his way up to that little broken balcony, or get out of the ground floor at least.

He takes of the two hunters, cutting one mid-sentence with an arrow shot to his neck. He simply sneaks around the other one and grabs him from behind. He almost misses his aim; he always tells himself _always on the neck up_ for a critical hit, but he manages to strike another stab on the hunter’s temple, and his lifeless body falls halfway on the calf-high puddle.

He spots a convenient ladder and lifts it up, placing it on the wall with a little angle. He doesn’t look back as he climbs up, no, fuck no. But as he gets a peek what’s up on the balcony, he gets kicked off, another hunter from the balcony sending him to the ground and to the bloodied puddle. He sits up, coughing out the disgusting water he swallowed but he’s plunged back and pinned to the ground with water everywhere.

There’s a hand on his neck and he can barely breathe. With one hand on the hunter’s wrist, he digs his nails deep. His other hand reaches up and wraps his hand around the hunter’s neck as well, keeping his palm pressed deeply into the bottom of the man’s neck for quick cutoff off his circulation. He pulls himself up before he pays a punch to the man’s jaw. The man stumbles back as Louis gasps for air, double the struggle but he’s shoves back to the water. He opens his eyes and sees his gun, waiting to be grabbed and used.

He reaches an arm out, curses his fingers to be so short. His fingers brush over it but suddenly he hears a gunshot sound and the heavy weight off of him. He lifts himself up, scrambling for his gun. He’s about to shoot but he sees Harry, his rifle still poised before he brings it down.

“Fuck.” Louis pants and he’s sure he’s positively shaking. He stands on his knees and stares at the bloody water, resting his hands on his knees. He can barely see himself in the reflection, and he’s fine with that.

“Are you okay?” Harry kneels before him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis pushes himself up to his knees, “Let’s get out of here, please?”

Harry observes his face for a short while, his eyebrows knits into a frown, “Sure.”

They search for some supplies, and Harry’s quite surprised his bag can hold so many, so he lets some go which he can never use for a lighter weight.

Harry goes to another balcony, looking down at some hunters patrolling on the grounds outside the hotel. “Fuck, when will all of you be gone?”

He jumps into a scaffolding and ducks down. Louis follows him and puts his gun into his makeshift holster. Harry spots a dead lookout sitting on a couch, and he walks over and grabs the rifle in its hands. Harry and Louis kneel down into cover. Harry stands the rifle up, looking at Louis, “Alright, I’m going to need a favor.”

Louis nods. Harry continues, “I’m going to go down there and clear us a path—“

“What?” Louis frowns, “You perfectly know that I can help—“

“And you are.” Harry slides him the weapon, “You have to cover me, alright?”

Harry doesn’t wait until he jumps down from the scaffolding. Louis takes a deep breath and focuses on his surroundings. There are five of them patrolling, scattered and in a conversation. Louis looks around to see if there are any more lookouts other than him. He ducks down further behind his cover before tugging the bolt back to reload. He waits for Harry to make the first move. Harry does after a few moments, and Louis shoots at one of the hunters.

He can see Harry crouching behind a car with all the hunters surrounding them, each having their own cover. Louis shoots at the nearest one. He gets slightly suspicious, but he pushes it at the back of his mind and continues to help Harry. He watches in slight fascination as Harry bangs a hunter’s head into the car window and smash his face into the cracked glass. He wishes he himself can do that.

Harry does his thing again; grabbing a victim and using it as a hostage. There are only two down, and Louis shoots the free one before Harry takes care of his hostage. They both get alarmed as another shoots, but Louis’ sure that they’ve got them all.

He trails his eyes all over each building before he sees another hunter from a balcony, a sniper as his weapon. “Shit.” Louis quickly reloads and hides himself better. It’s quite far away, but he risks it. He shoots and he scores.

He jumps down with the rifle. Harry jogs over, seeming to be out of breath and his shirt gaining another blood stain, “Great job back there.”

“Thanks.”

Harry gestures to the rifle, “Think you’re good with the rifle?”

“Sure.” Louis ties it to a strap in his bag. As they continue to walk from the hotel, they spot a few more hunters. Harry decides to just sneak past them because they haven’t got any choice; they need to save ammo even if they have a few weapons with them.

They come across another rolling gate. Harry lifts it up and asks Louis to hold it for him. He ducks down and does the same for Louis. As soon as the gate is once again on the ground, Harry notices the high opening. He boosts Louis and the latter pulls him up.

“Keep running!” A voice is heard from outside the glass window.

“Stay down, stay down.” Harry and Louis keep their heads down under the window sill, simply listening to the cries of agony from outside. Harry risks a peek, seeing two tourists, a man and a woman running, but they’re easily shot and killed, by some hunter with his allies on their truck.

Harry looks back down at Louis. As they hear the humvee move on forward, they stand up from their position. Louis exhales loudly, “Okay so we got the military on our asses now?”

“Those aren’t the military.” Harry answers, “Hunters.”

 “How’d you know?”

“Their stupid signature sign.” Harry peeks out a window and gestures to the humvee, “See that flag?” Louis nods, “That’s their sign. They have it on a part of a hunter’s clothes, like sleeves or shirt or whatever.”

“What if it’s hidden?”

Harry snorts, “They wouldn’t want their own allies killing them, right?”

“Well, right…” Louis purses his lips, “How do you know that much about them?”

Harry huffs, “Let’s see where this leads us.” Harry shivs open a door, bending down low and keeping his footsteps light with his focus intact in case there are any hunters around. Louis swears they’re fucking unlimited.

“So this is an apartment building?” Louis asks, observing his surroundings.

“I think so.” Harry answers lowly. He closes his eyes momentarily as he hears those gunshots from outside once again, “We need to be extra careful when we get out of here.”

“Sure, okay.”

Once they make sure the coast is clear, they jump out into the exterior staircase. They keep their head down just in case the fucking humvee patrolling around spots them. The staircase is broke in half, but they have a makeshift bridge of planks on top of each other connecting the staircase and into a ledge of another apartment.

“Is that safe?” Louis asks as he watches Harry sidle to the ledge, the tips of his boots hanging on the edge.

“Keep your balance.” Harry says, keeping his entire body straight, “And don’t try to fall off.”

Louis puts his gun on his holster and sidles after Harry. They spot an open window towards the end. Harry sighs in relief before jumping on it, offering Louis his hand for a help. Louis’ about to take it, but an arm is swung around Harry’s throat. Harry grunts, keeping both hands on the suspect’s arm and slamming back into a wall a few times.

Louis manages to jump in fast before pointing his gun to the man. The man stutters with his movements, and Harry grabs back at the man’s head and bangs his head to the wall. The man falls to the ground and Harry hovers over him, blowing punch after punch.

“Harry, stop!” Louis pulls Harry back and Harry shoves him out of the way, because _why? There’s a hunter right in front of them and—_

“He’s not one of them!” Louis calls out. Harry looks down at the man underneath him, arms pinned tightly. Harry searches all over his body. Once he gets nothing but a dirty t-shirt, jeans, and running shoes and no sign of the logo they’ve been seeing since an hour earlier, he pulls back, slowly rising to his knees.

The man coughs pitifully before sitting up before getting on his knees, “You hit fucking hard.”

“Yeah, well, I was trying to kill you.” Harry points out, his voice harsh.

They both watch as the man stands up and heaves a sigh, “My name’s Zayn.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! (i get it, I'm not at all good at these kind of fis buttfuck it.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis snorts, “Is that a butterfly on your stomach?”
> 
> Harry flips him off, walking past between him and Zayn, “I was nineteen and stupid.” 
> 
> “How’d you find tattoo artists in the middle of an apocalypse?” Louis arches his eyebrow, “I’ve wanted to have tattoos since I was eighteen.”
> 
> “Same.” Zayn says before he calls out to Harry, “How did you get tattoos, though, mate?”
> 
> Harry pauses and turns around, his eyes angry, “I joined the hunters back then, alright? I was eighteen when I joined them because my sister left me for the Fireflies without leaving anything. I had to live for myself and all I did was to kill people and get tattoos and steal to live. Is that enough information about me? Because if it is, I’ll be bloody thankful.”
> 
> Louis and Zayn stay silent.

 

**SUMMER**

**“Those things out there. What if the people are still inside? What if they’re trapped in there, without any control over their body? I’m scared of that happening to me.” - Sam**

 

 

 “Are you alone or..?” Louis asks and Harry can hear his voice from the room which has dolls all over it, bloody and dirtied up.

“There are others.” Zayn answers as Harry emerges from the room. The two is already at the end of the hall, waiting for Harry collect his shit as they engage into a conversation, “Humvee went for us, we got scattered and I’m the unfortunate one who didn’t get a partner.”

“How many were you?” Harry asks. Zayn leads them to his hideout where he’s been hiding for the past few days.

“Quite few.” Zayn answers, pulling out a cigarette pack and a lighter, “But we probably don’t care about finding each other. It’s all about getting out of here. How about you two?”

“Same thing.” Louis shrugs.

“Are you two related? You don’t look like brothers, though.”

“We’re not.” Harry answers, using his shiv to unlock a door. He sighs in relief as he spots a few bullets on a shelf and a few cans of food. He catches up to the both of them.

Zayn speaks, “Almost forgot. We got to be careful. Their lookout areas are real fucking close.”

“And that’s safe?” Harry says suspiciously, and then he begins to observe Zayn again.

At the ground floor, Zayn enters a toy store. It’s still full of toys and shelves and colorful decorations. Louis observes it, and his face softens a little as a he sees a dead body of what looked like a kid on the corner. Harry looks away from him.

“Did the truck spot you two?”

“Almost.”

“Damn humvee chased me around. It lost me after I went to the alley and up here.” Zayn blows out the smoke.

Louis’ fingers twitches, “Can I have one?”

“Have what?” Zayn hums, “Oh this? Sure.” He taps his pack against his thigh and offers one to Louis, who quickly takes one. Zayn offers him his lighter and Louis lights his stick up.

Louis turns to Harry, “Do you want one?”

“No.” Harry says simply, glancing at the black-haired man, “I’d rather save my lungs.”

“Low blow.” Zayn chuckles, “Through here. Come on.”

They exit out the back, and two hunters are on lookout away from them. Harry and Louis ducks behind a wall. “I want to stealth.” Harry announces quietly and brings out his crafty stick, with blades and nails all over the edge.

They both look over to Zayn, and he’s playing around with a circular object. He makes eye contact with Harry for a split moment before he throws the thing near the hunters. It explodes and smoke invades the area. Harry and Zayn go for it and Louis follows them, aiming his own victim.

It’s a risky movement to run towards an armed man, but Harry does it anyway. Once he gets to close, he swings his weapon backwards and down to the hunter’s shoulders, then he pulls it back once he’s sure that the sharp edges have dug into the man’s shoulders. Harry goes for another swing, and it effectively finishes the hunter.

“You got ‘em?” He questions, retaping his weapon before putting it back. He settles for his arrow then.

“Yeah, good job.” Zayn says, and he still has his cigarette between his lips.

Harry deadpans, “I’m quite diligent when it comes to killing people.”

The back of the apartment had a gate on it, sharp at the top. Zayn climbs on top of a car and into a trailer truck. They follow Zayn into another building with a makeshift bridge. Harry’s legs are getting pretty fucking tired, and he hasn’t had any rest since they had the car. But then Harry reminds himself that it’s only afternoon; not an entire day has passed yet.

“Through here.” Zayn brings out a key and unlocks some double doors. Inside is what looks like an office. Rows and rows of computer and desks lined up. Louis softly taps on a particular keyboard. He stops at another desk and picks up a picture frame of a dog.

“Cute, huh?” He jumps at the sound of Harry’s voice, but as he looks back over his shoulder, Harry’s already brushing past him.

“This place looks … cool.” Louis considers, wandering around. There are bookshelves with powerpoint presentations, canvas, and a large name which reads, _Spenzui Architecture._

“Did you want to be an architect before?” Zayn asks, his voice loud even though he’s on the other side of the room.

He figures the man is asking Harry, but as he looks at Harry, the curly man is looking over to some canvas laid out on the desks. He answers, “No. I wanted to be a teacher, drama or something. Or an actor would be nice.”

“You’d be fit for an actor.” Zayn opens another door at the end. They all pile up in there. Harry takes the swivel chair while Louis sits down at the two-seater couch, legs sprawled out.

“You’ve been holed up in here for days?” Harry asks, leaning back and enjoying the bend of his legs.

“Yep.” Zayn steps on his cigarette stick. He lifts a hand and gestures for them to come over to the open window. As soon as Harry and Louis is checking out what’s down there, they glance at each other as soon as they see a few assholes walking around and patrolling as always.

“They all assemble down there to guard that damn bridge.” Zayn begins, “At nighttime, they lessen down into a skeleton crew. We should be able to take them down and sneak past the others left.”

“That could work?” Louis asks.

“It’ll definitely work.”

Zayn brings out a map and walks over to a desk, laying it out. It’s barely readable but you can make out the red marks Zayn had made. “Heard the Fireflies are based somewhere else.”

“You’re heading there, too?” Harry isn’t quick enough to stop Louis’ mouth.

“Too?” Zayn raises an eyebrow, “Looking for them?”

Louis nods, “Yeah.” Harry glares at him subtly.

“This is us.” Zayn points to a green ‘x’, “There’s an abandoned radio tower outside the city. The left ones in our group are supposed to meet us there, tomorrow. If you two want to join us, it starts tonight.”

Louis looks up at Harry, because he didn’t realize that Harry’s the one who should make up all the rules, make the plan and Louis’ only there to cover him and help him and protect him when needed. Harry sighs and stands straighter, giving Louis a side glance, “We should rest, then.”

//

“Louis.” Louis is shaken awake, and he snaps up into a sitting position. His shoulders are tensed but as he sees Zayn, chuckling and amused at his reaction, he relaxes. He looks around, mainly at the open window. It’s dark and there are lights flashing above it.

He stands up from his position, stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles. He rolls his shoulders back and moves his neck side-to-side to get rid of the knots and discomfort from sleeping in the couch. Zayn nudges him, “Wake up your buddy.”

Louis nods and turns to Harry, whose still sleeping soundly on a swivel chair, leaned back and his head tilted backwards. Louis walks closer and subtly glances back at Zayn who’s unlocking the door. Louis reaches a hand up to shake Harry’s arm. It’s light, but Harry wakes up quickly, eyes fluttering open, revealing green tired ones.

“Zayn says it’s time to go.” Louis speaks. His voice is quiet, and quite shy.

Harry grunts as he stands up, grabbing his bag on the floor and checking if he has every weapon and every bullet. They follow Zayn through the open door. The black-haired man is carrying a hand gun and his flashlight, a headband tight around his head.

“I hope you know the way.” Harry says in that deep, very low voice. And it’s lower than his usual speaking voice. Louis guesses it’s his ‘morning’ voice.

“Relax.” Zayn rolls his eyes. He leads them to another room and what catches Louis’ attention is a replica of the bridge they’re aiming for. He wonders if after they cross that bridge - if they’ll be able to – will they be safe? Or will the hunters continue to chase them all around the fucking country? He can’t trust on either option. There’s nothing safe in the world anymore; and he has no idea what the hunters has planned for them, or the tourists, for that matter.

Zayn goes down the staircase, and Louis stops in his tracks as Harry jogs up the stairs. He purses his lips, “Where are you going?”

“Looting.” Harry answers, grabbing a book of magazine from the floor before reaching back in the pocket of his bag. He pulls out his duct tape. As he walks back down, he fits the magazine around his arm and tapes it tightly.

Louis figures it’s a stopper, but he asks, “Why can’t you just use one of my comics?”

Harry passes by him, following Zayn who’s already by a door, “You love those comics.”

Louis follows both of them. Zayn huffs, “Took you guys long enough.” before he bends down to shiv at the door. They are finally at the ground floor, and it’s a long hall with the reception. By the entrance are two hunters, facing a barrel torch, which are also scattered all over the ground floor and outside. Louis stays back hidden while the two other men sneak up. The two hunters are casually talking like regular lad.

At the same time, Harry and Zayn catch their own victim and grips tight around their throat, effectively strangling them. Outside is the checkpoint they’ve been looking at yesterday afternoon. There’s a huge spotlight slowly looking around, when the three of them are about to sneak out, a gunshot is heard. Zayn pulls a hand back to signal the two for a stop.

“Hey you hear that? Infected.” A hunter calls loudly, and Louis swears under his breath. If three of them are battling hunters _and_ infected at the same time, they wouldn’t live for sure.

“I got this. I got this.” Another chants, and that gunshot is heard again. From a distance, the dead is staggering forward. Harry snickers quietly at the hunter misses a few times before eventually nailing it at the end.

They use the huge concrete blocks and scattered cars, and they stop at the right time when the spotlight shines at their direction. Zayn waits until the three of them are cramped, hiding behind a police car, “We have to separate. We just need to get to the gate.”

Harry nods before Zayn’s running off across the street, and no hunter sees his movement. Harry looks back at Louis behind him, “You’re gonna be alright by yourself?”

Zayn’s the first one to get close to the checkpoint, his axe in hand this time. He swings at the nearest hunter he sees and the other two left don’t hesitate to come out of their hiding spot. Louis runs near before stopping ducking down to another car. He can’t really run towards an armed man, men.

A man nearly hits him from behind, but thankfully Louis saw his shadow. The man misses and hits the car window instead, and Louis shivs him to death. He switches to his pistol, reloading it. He’s not carrying a handful of weapons like Harry and Zayn, so he needs to get every shot count. His revolver is the only weapon left if his ammo on his pistol dies down.

Harry gets closer to the checkpoint and more hunters are jumping out from it. He’s not complaining that they’re slowly getting outnumbered, because he knows that if they have set their attack on daytime, they’ll be in even more shit than they are now. There’s suddenly fire erupting near the checkpoint, and at least three hunters burning alive. Harry realizes it’s Zayn. Harry ducks behind another concrete block and peeks slightly so he could aim at the one controlling the spotlight and at the sniper. At the first shot, he ends up shattering the glass on the light, but he nails the both of them on the fourth and fifth try.

Louis’ at the other side of the checkpoint, attacking at the other hunter whose on watch at the bottom. As he sees other hunters jumping down, he backs away immediately as Zayn covers him. Another fire erupts from the Molotov and _now_ it makes a huge difference.

There’s one last man standing, hiding behind the concrete block. Harry grabs a bottle and throws it, just to scare the man. The man backs away from his spot, oblivious to the three all around him. Harry pulls out his bow and arrow. The absence of light is making it harder to see, but when they hear a choke, they know it’s over.

“All right.” Zayn pants, “We did it.”

Harry rushes to where the last hunter is and grabs his arrow back, careful not to accidentally break it while he tries to pull it out. Louis comes out from his hiding spot and eventually joins Harry and Zayn, he doesn’t want to separate anymore, to be honest.

“Give me a hand with this.” Zayn gestures towards the gate. As they both push it open, another light comes from the other way.

It’s the humvee.

“Shit, shit shit.” The three of them rushes inside, and immediately pull the metal latch over it. The humvee tries to run through it, positively attempting to break the large double doors. They rush to the other end. All they need is to get pass the other gate and they’ll be at the bridge, but it’s locked and they need to fucking jump over it. There’s a ladder on the wall, broken and only three steps short from above. Harry gets in a boost position. Louis’ the one to go first and he clings to the ladder and pulls himself up. Zayn does the same process, but the ladder gives in and falls off, but Louis helps Zayn until both of them are up completely.

The humvee’s halfway through their objective, the metal latch almost breaking from the impact. “We gotta go.” Zayn announces, calling it out like a threat.

“What?” Both Harry and Louis exclaims.

“We need to go!” Zayn tugs at Louis’ arm but Louis breaks free and jumps back down, stumbling to his feet until Harry steadies him.

“Open the gate, hurry!” A hunter calls out, and they begin their immediate firing with their massive emplacement.

Harry quickly searches for something, _anything._ He’s rewarded when they see the rolling gate. “Here, here!” Harry quickly lifts it up in struggle. The humvee finally gets through, their firing not haulting for even half a second. Louis lifts it up and Harry quickly ducks down as the emplacement aims at Harry. Louis drops the rolling gate the second bullet after bullet is fired, bouncing off from the rolling gate.

Harry had fallen back on his arse on bewilderment, and he’s still sitting there, panting and panic flooding his mind. He quickly gets up to his feet and turns to Louis, “You know that you just gave up your chance of survival, right?”

“I need you _alive,_ alright?” Louis practically spits.

Harry shakes his head at him before he goes at a door. The door leads behind a counter of a pub, and at the entrance are hunters, alarmed and ready. Harry ducks down with Louis, speaking lowly, “How much bullets do you have left?”

“Quite few.”

Harry surrenders some and hands them to Louis who puts them to the right weapon, reloading quick. A hunter is approaching their direction, and Harry picks up a bottle before shattering the body of it to the ground. The sound is heard, and the man doesn’t even relent. He continues to approach the counter until Harry lunges for him and drives the sharp ends of the bottle deep in his throat. Harry quickly sprints to a pool table. There’s two left at the entrance, and Louis peeks out from the counter and aims at the one with the bat. His aim scores and Harry takes the opportunity to take out the third one.

The entrance of the pub is chained at the handles, and if pulled apart, the handles only require little space, but Louis ducks underneath it and outside. Harry follows. His arrow catches on the chain but he quickly relives it.

They are on the other side of the second gate they weren’t able to get through earlier, and the humvee is back, quickly spotting them and trying to ram the gate.

“Run, Louis!” Harry bellows before they’re off running to the bridge. It’s so close, they’re so close.

The humvee drives after them, and their distance becomes less and less. As they reach the very start of the bridge, they realize that’s it’s barricaded with cars. Both of them climb on top of a bus, and then they realize another thing.

The bridge is broken, cut through in half and the distance is too far away that they need to jump to the rushing river water. Harry’s voice is filled with panic when he repeats the question, “How many bullets do you have left?”

“We can’t fight them!” Louis argues, “They have a fucking humvee! All we can do is jump!”

“It’s too high. We have no other choice!”

“No time to argue.” Louis jumps without hesitation, his arms flailing.

“Goddamn it.” Harry jumps after him, taking a deep breath on the way before he’s plunged into the water. He rises quickly on the surface, his arms and legs fighting to keep him afloat. The current is strong, and he doesn’t get the chance to spot where Louis is before he rams into debris and loses consciousness.

//

“Zayn, he’s awake!” The volume of the voice gets his head throbbing, and he sits up, clutching his head.

“Hey, you.” Louis greets him, voice soft and relieved, “We’re alive.”

Zayn jogs over as Harry gets up to his feet, maintaining his balance. His anger is resurfacing, because what Zayn did is complete and utter bullshit. “Mate, I’m really sorry. Louis’ the one who dragged you to the beach and—“

In one quick motion, Harry grabs his gun and pushes him to the ground, aiming. His eyebrows are knitted and his eyes are angry, “You left us there to die!”

“I know you’re pissed.” Zayn points out, “But you’re not going to do anything.”

Harry takes a step forward, finger on the trigger, “Are you sure about that?”

“Harry.” Louis places his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry acknowledges him, but his vision stays locked at Zayn, “He left us.”

“You made it.” Zayn’s holding his hand up, “Call it selfish, but I’m looking out for myself, too. Coming back means putting Louis and I in danger, _if_ he didn’t jump back to you. You made it, and that’s all what matters. Would you come back for me if it’s in the other way around? No, you wouldn’t.”

Harry pauses before he puts down his hands and throws the gun to the ground, before he walks back wordlessly to where his bag is. He checks his weapon, surely the bow and his arrows are still good, but his other weapons are drenched, and there’s a high chance of it blowing up on his face when he tries to fire it, “Fuck.”

Louis walks over, “Mine’s soaked, too.”

“Well, great.” Harry scoffs, “This is your fault.”

Louis scowls, the surprise in his face apparent, because _what the hell is this man trying to prove?_ “My fault? I’m the reason why we’re alive right now—“

“If we fought back there, we wouldn’t have wasted our weapons. Do you know how much we’ve lost because of the stupid stunt you did?” Harry pulls out his guns from his holster before throwing them to the sand. He saves his bow and arrows and his crafty stick, although the nails are halfway to dropping and falling off the wood, but he can just hammer them back on with a rock. The magazine on his arm is drenched, too, so he pulls it off and throws them away. His skin feels clammy and his clothes are much heavier. The sand is sticking to his back and his hair.

Louis scoffs, throwing his arms in the air, “This is ridiculous! You think we actually had a chance if we fought against them? This isn’t a heroic game where you can start all over if you died, Harry. If one bullet gets through you, you’re done.”

Harry argues back, tone harsh, “Our weapons are all fucked up and all we have is a bow, eight arrows, a bat, the bullets and shivs and scissors. Do you think we’ll be able to bloody survive when there’s many more out there? We’ve still got a long fucking way to go, Louis, and I appreciate not getting killed by anyone or anything before I get you back to your goddamn group.”

Louis crosses his arms, and he glares at Zayn when the man attempted to stop them. Louis just wants Harry a piece of his mind. If he’s the one going to take Louis back to safety, then might as well make sure they don’t hate each other’s guts, “Tell me, where did we get most of our weapons? Tell me.” Harry doesn’t answer. Louis continues, “May I remind you, we found them scattered all over the city and town and everywhere. We won’t know if there will be more ahead of us but it’s damn possible that there are. If you’re worried about your weapons, I’m worried about my life. People die every day and they leave either bullets or whatever weapon they have for surviving. You’ve lived in this apocalypse since you were barely a ten-year-old; surely you know your way around fighting now that you’re twenty-five.”

Zayn cuts off this time, and Louis kind of feels bad for him, “The tower is on the other side, and it’s supposed to be full of supplies, alright? Come on.”

Harry stands up after he’s done throwing what he can’t relive before standing up, his hands now empty. They job through the cliff, water drifting a few meters blow them. Harry could see the bridge from far away, and the city is at the other side of the large river. He’s relieved. The sky is quite dark, and Harry wonders if it’s because of an incoming rain or if it’s nearing evening.

“Let’s search the area!” Zayn calls to the behind him.

Louis jogs over to a boat, stranded in the dock. Harry takes his time to stretch his legs, just walking coolly and kicking pebbles. It’s weird being in a beach with everything destroyed like a huge storm passed by it. Except, there _was_ a big storm which passed by it. A big storm of cordyceps infection and death.

He stays behind to see Zayn and Louis collect what they can have. Harry pulls his lips into a tight line. Zayn and Louis is creating quite a bond. Harry knows it started from that toy store where Zayn shared his cancer stick with Louis. It doesn’t _quite_ bother Harry. He and Zayn can make a super-fucking-team and find the Fireflies together.

Harry spots a Firefly pendant. He barely notices it, but the end of it had caught into the soles of his shoes. He wipes it on his wet clothes. It’s a circular pendant, the name and certain number engraved on the back and firefly on the front. He looks up, observing the small man for few seconds before he pockets it.

Once the two stop bonding together collecting shit, Harry spots a sewer gate at the side of the cliff. He jogs to it, peeking and trying to see where it leads, “Hey! I found something!”

Zayn sprints over with Louis following behind, “Good job. I bet this will lead us right through.”

“I hate sewers.” Louis grumbles.

Harry lifts the gate outwards. Zayn and Louis come in. Louis then faces back and pushes the gate to let Harry in. With ease, he slowly puts the gate down to prevent more noises, because sewers are prone to infected.

The atmosphere is quiet and awkward. The only sounds were the streams of filthy water leaking and streaming everywhere. The water’s up halfway down their shoes, but there were times that they would get splashed by the sudden rats running around. While they looked around for supplies, Zayn steps up to Harry, holding his rifle up, “Figured you’d want this.”

“You’re giving this up for someone who almost shot you.” Harry stares at it in hesitation. Zayn’s an idiot, because Harry already tried to kill him _twice_ in a span of a day.

Zayn presses the gun to Harry’s shoulder, “Almost. I’m not dead yet.”

Harry takes the gun, “Thanks.”

Zayn walks away at that, coming across a metal gate. He shakes it, finding the latch on the other side, “Someone, get through that vent over there and crawl across?” He points to the vent on the bottom. He crouches down to it and pulled it open, a big rat sprinting out.

Harry watches as Louis comes over, and crawls through the small path, pushing against the other vent that’s on the other side of the gate. He gets out, and Harry steps nearer to the gate. Louis undoes the latch and opens the door, “Viola.”

Harry goes in. It’s a simple room with bookshelves. He stole the cans of food, a few clothes scattered and shoves it inside his poorly filled bag. He finds some notes from past survivors; he doesn’t know what happened to them, whether they died or got infected or both (but he sounded like he committed suicide because of his sad, sad words), and the man had mentioned something about making the sewers his hideout. Obviously, sewers should be the last thing you should be in a zombie apocalypse.

He exits the room and follows the two. They continue walking, collecting wet stuff they can use. Harry, on the other hand, gets back to the job of filling his bag again. He finds a bat, and he takes a little time to hammer the nails he got and the blades of the scissors to the wood with a rock.

“Now, that’s smart.” Zayn comments, observing the melee weapon Harry just created.

They continue to walk until they stop in front of double doors with childish drawings over the wall by it. It’s colorful and creepy at the same time. The three of them stands in front of it, hesitating, “You think there’s people inside?”

“Let’s find out.” Harry bravely steps forward and swings the door open, although three of them jumps as bottles drop from the ceiling. Harry eyes it, “It’s a sound alarm. I think someone used to live here.”

“They must’ve thought that they can keep a place like _this_ safe.” Louis informs. He’s reading some kind of house rules on the wall. He follows the two, and freezes as he spots a weapon on a desk filled with papers and folders. He picks it up and checks if it has some ammo, “Found something.”

“What is it?” Zayn’s voice carries through with an echo. Harry nudges him with an arm and tells him to stay quiet.

“It’s a handgun.” Louis says as soon as he’s near enough, “Like … a short shotgun.”

“That’s cool.” Zayn nods.

Harry opens another door that exits them from the room, and then it’s another long way for them. They stop shortly to collect some more, and Harry finds himself finding more notes scattered around, whether ripped in half or wet from the filthy water. It all contains the same thing; melodramatic words and surviving. He figures the notes came from the same person that used to live here.

“Let’s be more careful around—“

A crash sounds and Harry rushes from the room, preparing his rifle as he jogs to where the two is. He sees Zayn, and there’s a large yellow partition in front of him with a little window in the center, “What the hell happened?”

Zayn gestures to the other side, and Harry sees Louis. Harry’s eyes widen slightly before his eye brows drop in a frown, “What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t..—“ Louis sucks a sharp breath, “I triggered some safety gate.. or something.” He turns to show Harry the door he had opened, and it’s enough for an explanation.

“Alright, let’s figure something out—“

Fast footsteps, that’s what they hear, and soon they’re hearing moaning and groaning, mixed with slight screaming of the walkers ironically _running_ towards them. Zayn snaps, “Harry, we have to go.”

Harry looks at Louis one more time and growls, “Don’t fucking die.” Before he and Zayn runs off to escape the horde. Louis stays quiet from the other side of the partition to remain unseen, but he can’t help but pray that _God, don’t let me die on this._

His hand is shaking quite badly, but he stops it and shakes himself a little to wake himself up. Now, he really needs to be independent. He can’t die now. They’re already halfway through, but he can’t help but curse as to why Zayn didn’t just step a little more forward so he will be with Louis instead. He’s weak, he knows that, and it’s unfair for him to be alone.

He slaps himself on the forehead.

He moves toward the room quietly and carefully. His holding his flashlight on his left hand and his gun on the other, and all he’s got to do is to brace himself for what’s coming, because he’s sure it isn’t pretty.

He shakes his flashlight to jiggle the battery as it flickers, and Louis doesn’t need an uncooperative flashlight. He’s in a large room with what seems like a storage room. It’s got crates and large posts loitering around. Louis wonders if those crates contain gun for their past survival. Surely, the dead survivors have been here before. That explains the safety partition.

There are infected around, trying to search for any more sound. Louis can’t be more thankful that they stand in one place, not yet alert from the crash earlier. He wishes he has the damn bow. Harry doesn’t let him have nice things.

He hides behind a tower of crates. He pays no mind to the cockroaches crawling around, because a cockroach can’t kill him. He creeps off to the end of the room with his flashlight off just in case. The end of the room has bookshelves and a large desk. Louis waits, ducking behind the desk for safety.

That safety doesn’t last for long because an infected rushes to him from a doorway. Louis aims his gun and shoots, right at the head. He needs to keep his shots count, because there aren’t no such thing as unlimited bullets especially for weapons he just picked up. He has a shiv, though, it can help for… a short moment of time.

They all come one by one despite the loud sounds his gun is making. Sometimes they come with two, but thankfully Louis has enough time to shoot them dead before they attack him. He steps nearer to the doorway in hopes of killing them soon. He shoots one that’s barreling towards him, but he’s hit in the back. He turns around and pays a few punches here and there until it’s on its knees, struggling. Louis pins it against the wall and drives his knee on his face, its blood and what’s left of his flesh splattering on the concrete.

He kills another one, and waits for more incoming attacks. Attacks, or infected, aren’t coming, though. Everything is still and quiet, so he moves. Soon, he comes across small sleeping quarters, and lying on the floor is a small box of ammo for his shotgun. He takes it gratefully. He reloads it and keeps the box in his pocket.

It looks like there were a lot of people that lived there because of the quarters. The beds are separated everywhere, and it’s like even if you are napping, you have to keep your eyes peeled for anything. Outside the quarters are what looks like a classroom, which isn’t really in a room at all. There are two cribs in the corner and a blackboard on the wall. Toys are scattered around. Louis softens a bit, because he misses his family. They’re all… not alive.

He finds a ladder on top of a ledge, its end is hanging on the edge. The ledge isn’t that tall, and Louis knows he can reach it. He jumps up and brings the ladder down with him, resting it against the wall with the appropriate angle, “That should do it.”

He jumps down the ledge, and he nearly pisses his pants as Harry and Zayn appears from around the corner, looking panicked and terrified, “Louis!”

“Are they—“ Louis begins to question but Harry tugs on his arm before letting go after he’s sure that Louis is running, too. Infected are running for them, fast and fucking crazy. At the end of the hall, they enter a door and shuts it closed. Harry gives up his bat he used before and uses it as a latch, inserting it through the handles.

They come across another gate which has a pipe stuck on it. Zayn and Harry push it, struggling at the wood on the door struggle not to break. Louis spots a duct on the bottom. He crouches next to it and pulls it open. He crawls through. The two men remain oblivious, until Louis pops from the other side of the duct and kicks his exit open. He rushes to the gate and pulls the pipe off, carrying it with him as they run once again.

“Upstairs!” Zayn says.

They run for their lives, taking three steps at a time and making it out safe as they get to top. Zayn runs through a hallway and at the end of it is another room with a door. It has a window above it, small and horizontal. Zayn tries to push the door open but something is blocking it from the outside, only leaving _very_ small space to fit through.

Harry stays as their guard, rifle ready. He fires at the first infected. Louis helps him somehow, but stumbles and falls back on his arse as Harry throws a Molotov near him and to three infected rushing to him. Harry kills the last few ones and helps Louis to his feet with a hand, “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Louis stands up. Zayn has managed to crawl through the small window and fit himself. He’s now trying to pull away what’s stopping the door from being open. But as soon as the space is added, Harry says, “That’s alright. We’ll fit through.” He pushes himself against the door and sidles through the small space and into the outside. Louis does the same and he breathes in nature as he gets out while Harry and Zayn barricade the door once again.

Louis straightens up, but he finds his jaw slackened as he sees what’s written on the wall, _“WARNING: Infected inside._

“Really?” He flails his arms, “All this time? Thanks for the fucking warning.”

Zayn chuckles, but Harry is left staring at the sarcastic lad. He shares a small smile with himself as he rummages through a van, collecting some stuff inside. He mutters, “What I’d do for a car right now.”

“That was a close one, huh?” Zayn says, nudging Louis with his elbow, “Glad to see that you were still in one piece.”

They’re once again in a overgrown area, and Louis can’t be more thankful with the trees, plants and nature surrounding them. He takes a deep breath, “It’s a really close call but eh, we made it anyway.”

“Don’t sound so confident.” Zany scoffs, playful, “I’d pay anything to watch you when you were separated from the two of us.”

“Didn’t you see the look on your faces when the three of us saw each other?” Louis shoves him. Harry catches up to them, staying a few meters behind them and listening to them tease and make fun of each other.

They exit the area and to a street. There are houses and cars everywhere. Walking close to a railing, Zayn points to a tall tower, barely seen with the clouds, “See that? That’s our lovely destination.”

Louis looks back at Harry, “If only we didn’t lose our car.”

Harry purses his lips, subtle, “Yeah. Damn hunters.”

They continue walking up the street. Harry takes a while inside a particular house, but he’s only rummaging through a few stuffs and stealing a few more clothes from the drawers, sure to fit him and his companion if he ever needs one.

“How’d you two end up together?” Zayn asks, watching Louis kick a rock like a professional football player.

Louis shrugs, “A friend of mine asked him to take me to the Fireflies.”

“That friend couldn’t take you himself?”

“Her.” Louis corrects, “And she isn’t at the best state at that time, and Harry is there so…”

Zayn snickers, “You can’t take yourself to the Fireflies?”

“Hey, mate, watch it.” Louis rolls his eyes and stops with his playing, “They made a deal, alright? Harry gets a lot of merchandise if he’s ever successful with this … mission.”

“And that mission is to take you to the Fireflies?” Zayn asks, and Louis nods as confirmation. Zayn glances at the house Harry’s in before speaking, “You two seem to be in good terms.”

“We are.” Louis says, “Or … well, we don’t _always_ shout at each other and argue. He’s a good guy. He’s just not … he’s quiet.” _And mysterious and maybe even confusing._

“I can see that myself.” Zayn comments.

As Harry emerges from the house, he has a new (ridiculous) shirt on. Louis raises his eyebrow, “What the hell?”

Harry rolls his eyes and tosses Louis a bundle he got from the house, “Don’t worry, I got you shit, too.”

Louis frowns, eyeing the clothes. Harry huffs, “They’re _clean._ They came from drawers and they were basically teasing me to just take them.”

Zayn’s amusement levels up as he watches the two argue, crossing his arms as he stays back. Louis finally gives in and shoves the clothes to his bag, adding only a little weight but it makes his bag blow up more. Harry has ditched his black shirt and he settles for a button up now. It’s flowy and Harry has three buttons left undone on the top. It shows his pale skin and three tattoos peeking out. He still has his hair in a bun, and it’s been like that since they’ve met.

Louis snorts, “Is that a butterfly on your stomach?”

Harry flips him off, walking past between him and Zayn, “I was nineteen and stupid.” _Because who the hell would want an insect with wings and nature on your fucking stomach inked permanently for life?_

“How’d you find tattoo artists in the middle of an apocalypse?” Louis arches his eyebrow, “I’ve wanted to have tattoos since I was eighteen.”

“Same.” Zayn says before he calls out to Harry, “How _did_ you get tattoos, though, mate?”

Harry pauses and turns around, his eyes angry, “I joined the hunters back then, alright? I was eighteen when I joined them because my sister left me for the Fireflies without leaving anything. I had to live for myself and all I did was to kill people and get tattoos and steal to live. Is that enough information about me? Because if it is, I’ll be bloody thankful.”

Louis and Zayn stay silent. They continue walking, quiet, but Louis can’t keep his thoughts down. He’s not so sure anymore. How long did Harry join the hunters? He shouldn’t be one of them anymore because they had killed a pact of them days ago. But he’s simply wondering what happened back then, but he won’t ask Harry about it, now that he’s two times deeper.

“Are those dogs?” Zayn asks. As asked, two dogs ran around and chased each other at the end of the street.

“Don’t approach them. They’re probably wild.” Harry informs them. Louis can’t help but think, his shirt is absolutely ridiculous. He probably got it from the parent’s master bedroom in that house. He doesn’t look stupid with it; the shirt is the one that’s stupid. It has a different pattern in the back; red and blue plaid. The front has gold flowers all over it. It’s tucked in his tight jeans and the sleeves are rolled. He has so many tattoos on his arm, the other left with one quote. There’s even a naked mermaid on his forearm.

The hunters probably laughed behind his back because of his tattoos.

Harry pauses and lifts a leg up to rest his bag on his thigh, zipping it open. Louis watches subtly as Zayn and him pass by the curly man, stopping to check their surroundings. Harry brings out a water bottle after rummaging. The cap is screwed on tight so the water shouldn’t be contaminated even after their little disaster swim back in the river. He drinks, but it’s barely a gulp. It’s a half second sip. He still half of his bottle filled.

“We should get some rest soon. Sun’s gonna drop.” Harry zips his bag closed once again, swinging the two straps around his shoulders.

“Yeah, we’ll find something.” Zayn promises.

They jump down to a cul-de-sac, but a gun fires. Three of them run to nearby car, hiding behind it. Harry peers through the window of the car, observing, “It must be that house at the very end.”

“Hunters, again?” Louis asks.

“Probably.” Harry breathes out, “Alright, listen. You two keep him distracted from me, yeah? I’ll try to go around. You’ll know I’m the one behind the snipe if I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Funny.” Louis deadpans, “Go. Careful with your feet.”

Harry turns his back to him. He waits until the snipe makes a missed shoot before he runs to a house near the car, keeping his head down. The sniper shoots again, but Harry’s already inside the house, crawling his way through the window on the side. The houses contain hunters, also. Harry realizes as he stops midway into a staircase on the way up when a man creeps up. He shoots him, and grabs the man’s shotgun and his ammo.

One grabs him from behind. Harry splutters out as him and the man drops to the floor. Harry removes one hand from the man’s arm and reaches to his belt. Harry bites down at the man’s arm and at the same time drive his knife backwards. He doesn’t see where it goes, but as he stands up, he sees the hunter’s right eye pierced with the knife. He pulls out his knife and puts it back to where it’s strapped to his belt.

He ducks down quickly as the sniper shoots towards the house, crouching down under the counter of the kitchen. He peeks in every now and then to see if there are more incoming men. When he spots none, he runs from the house and to a large tree, before bolting to another neighboring house.

Louis and Zayn help him, but they keep their position behind the car because the sniper’s attention is mostly on them. The house isn’t that far, and Louis can barely see Harry, jumping through windows and dodging trees. He knows it’s not an appropriate time to laugh at Harry’s flowy shirt, so he doesn’t laugh.

Harry kills more of the hunters, and as he fits himself on the wall on that particular house with the sniper, he’s overwhelmed with the tiredness that took over his body. His body turns limp, his shoulders slouching. He lets himself breathe a few more times before crawling through the broken wall of the house.

The sniper has to be on the very top of the house. The house is three storeys high, and Harry knows that the sniper is on the very top. Hunters are loitering around the house, so Harry switches to his bow and arrow. It’s like a video game. In every floor, it gets harder every time. Harry almost gets killed while he’s killing this one man and another fire at him. He uses the man as cover before ducking behind a doorway. He scores on his next aim, and he goes back to grab their ammos. He has about boxes of them now, so he’s very fortunate.

Reaching the top floor, he enters a doorway, but he’s caught off- guard as a knife flies towards him. He catches the wrist of the man while the man catches his other hand holding his gun. Harry doesn’t relent; he keeps his grip tight and strong while his other hand tries to twist his wrist up to aim. He shoots and he hits the man’s thighs, dangerously close to his crotch. Harry drives his knee up to his gut to effectively put the knife off his fucking face. Harry pins the man to the wall and stabs the man on the shoulder where it meets the neck once, twice, thrice.

Harry slumps to the floor after that, sitting back on his arse, but then he remembers Louis, and then Zayn. He rushes to the sniper standing by a large window, standing on one knee. He’s surprised, because he sees more hunters around them, having their own covers and they’re only target are Louis and Zayn. Harry snipes the few nearer ones, missing one shot. He keeps his head behind the scope to see well. Louis and Zayn, of course, they shoot for themselves, and in no time, the hunters are all dead. Louis and Zayn move quickly out of their weakening spot.

Harry seems relieved, but then his senses heighten as he sees that familiar humvee that almost took his and Louis’ lives, “Fuck, shit, shit shit.”

Zayn grabs Louis down to another car, keeping their heads low. None of them dares to peek out to try and shoot, because the damn truck is really going for it. Molotov after Molotov is thrown near them, and Harry, instead of aiming at the truck, he waits until the man throwing the Molotov appears before he shoots.

The humvee sets on fire and drives straight into a house, burning in flames. Zayn and Louis slowly approaches the moving truck, panting and looking up to see if they can catch sight of Harry. Harry sighs, and he’s about to leave when he sees another person barreling towards the two. Except it’s not a person, a dead person, at least.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Harry returns to the sniper just in time Zayn shoots the one. And then there’s another two. One attacks Louis, and he struggles for a little bit, Harry helps him with the sniper as Zayn gets tackled to the ground with an infected. Zayn kicks it in the face and then finally Louis shoots it.

Harry counts two more, and another four, and another five, until he can’t count anymore. He really tried to shoot as much infected with Zayn and Louis, but they are coming in too fast. It’s becoming out of control. Harry puts down the sniper, “No, no.” He sees the scene as Zayn and Louis run for their lives and into the house where Harry’s at.

They meet at the very bottom floor. The infected are trying to break apart the barricades at the doors and windows. “You two alright?” Harry asks, panting.

“Yeah.” Louis nods, “But we should really leave.”

“Come on, this way.” Zayn runs through a back door, waiting until Harry and Louis is out until he shuts the door. They escape the place through a fence and into safety.

//

“Shut the fuck up.” Louis gapes at Harry, who sits leaning against the wall as the pot between them burns into their little makeshift stove.

“I did.” Harry nods.

“You are lying.” Louis crosses his arms, “You can’t own a Harley at sixteen!”

“I did, didn’t I?” Harry chuckles, because he just can’t help it, “It was … well, it was borrowed. It was Gemma’s, and she used it to travel because of the guns and stuff. I helped her.”

“Wow. Six years into the apocalypse, and you’re enjoying life with a Harley.” Louis scoffs.

Harry purses his lips, “It’s not enjoying life. It’s enjoying because of the Harley, but life? No, hell no.”

“Your sister must be badass.” Louis says, but he sighs, lifting his head to look around the room, “Where’s Zayn?”

“Said he’s gotta rest.” Harry informs, leaning in to check their pot of soup, “How old are you when all this started?”

Louis calculates inside his mind, “I was only eight. I barely remember anything until I turned eleven. I was instantly enrolled into military school—“

“But then you joined the Fireflies.”

“No.” Louis confirms, “I didn’t. When I was bitten, exactly a month ago, Eleanor took me in because all of us know what will happen to me if military found out about my bite. I’d probably be dead meat by now. They don’t exactly believe in ‘finding the cure’.”

“How’d you um…” Harry gestures with his hand, “With the cure… and all that.”

Louis sighs and folds his knees close to his chest. He dares one glance towards Harry before speaking, “I was bitten with my best friend. He uh… He was one of the Fireflies and he visited me once. We snuck out during nighttime and into this abandoned mall. Infected found out apparently and one bit me, and one bit him. He died the next day.”

Harry watches in silence as Louis pulls up the sleeve of his jacket to trail a finger on his bite, still dry and unchanging. Louis purses his lips, “Eleanor took me in, then, but I had no other choice. My family died after couple of days because they’ve associated with a Firefly; _me_.”

“People are so fucked up.” Harry wonders out loud, “We’re in a zombie apocalypse, and our family is killed by the military.”

Louis gives him a sad smile, “Your parents, too?”

“Uh-huh.” Harry says, shrugging, “They accidentally crossed a territory line while trying to hunt for food for my sister and I.”

“So It’s just you and your sister, then.”

“Was.” Harry clears his throat.

Louis observes him. It’s clear that Harry doesn’t like talking about his sister, so he drops it the subject. He scoots over to the noodles and with a stick, he lifts up the lid of the pot with the handle perched on top, “It’s ready.”

“Good, I’m fucking starving.” Harry scoots over and accepts the can that Louis hands him as well as the spoon. He watches subtly as Louis fills two cans before standing up with one of them in his hands, “I’ll take this to Zayn. It’s obvious that he has no plans on getting up.”

“Sure.” Harry bites the inside of his cheek and looks out the window.

Louis enters the room where Zayn’s in, and he sees the lad sitting by a chair, their cans of food in front of him all stocked up in a pyramid. Louis places the soup down gently, “Thought you were asleep.”

“Couldn’t.” Zayn corrects, blankly staring at his collection.

“Are you alright, mate?” Louis nudges his shoulder, “You look pale.”

“Just tired.” Zayn shrugs.

Louis nods slowly, “Okay, but eat, yeah? You need it.”

As Louis leaves the room and shuts the door, Zayn smacks the can of soup to the floor and doubles over, resting his head on his hands and panting heavily.

“So, what’s our next step? We’re in the tower, now what?” Louis asks as soon as he’s back with Harry, sitting in front of the pot and biting his lip in starvation as he sips on his soup.

 “Lake District. I heard that’s where my sister is.” Harry informs, “We should ask her about where the Fireflies are and well… go there.”

Harry notices how Louis’ shoulders slump before he straightens up, breathing out, “Okay. Good.”

“Were you thinking about something else?”

“No.” Louis shakes his head quickly and he doesn’t even use his spoon as he sips up his soup to avoid further more questions.

The sun rises a few hours later. Three of them got their well-deserved rest. In the morning, Louis is the first one to wake up. He sees Harry on the corner of the room, his blanket covering him from neck to his toes. Louis stretches, moaning at his limbs and hamstrings before bending down to grab the pot. They did get enough soup last night, but they won’t know how long until they eat again. He prepares the pot and grabs three cans of soup yet again. They don’t have much of a choice; they don’t have any water to boil those ramen noodles they got.

As everything’s settled and the soup’s sitting there, Louis grabs the empty cans and sits them by the stove along with the spoons. Louis sits back on his bum and yawns. He shouldn’t go back to sleep now that he has something to watch over to.

After a few minutes, the soup starts boiling. Louis extinguishes the fire off and pours the soup into the cans equally. At the smell, Harry wakes up, shaking awake. His hair, pulled out from his bun during his deep slumber, falls to his face before he shakes them off, searching everywhere for his hair tie. He spots it and keeps it around his wrist.

“I would kill for chicken right now.” Harry yawns. His voice is extremely deep, and Louis barely understands his words.

“You can kill a chicken.” Louis points out, “But that would be heartless.”

Harry grabs one can, “What even is the meaning of sympathy in this world?”

Louis ignores it, just gives him a glance in the corner of his eye before standing up, “I’ll wake Zayn up.”

“Drag his arse out of here.” Harry rolls his eyes. Louis snorts. Harry stands to his knees and eventually to his feet, sliding the window open to let some wind in. He stands by the window. The trees look even more beautiful, and the wind has gotten chillier than days before.

“September.” Harry purses his lips, “Right.”

A bang emits from the other side of the door where Zayn and Louis is at. Harry puts his can by the window sill and approaches the door, but it opens and out comes Louis and Zayn. “Zayn!” Louis struggles to push Zayn off him, but Zayn groans, close to a growl, before barring his teeth and forcing himself closer to Louis’ skin.

“Shit.” Harry scrambles for his bag and for his gun. He aims it at Zayn, hesitating but he pulls at the trigger. The gunshot makes their ears ring.

Louis gasps and pushes Zayn’s limp body off of him, scrambling to his feet. They both watch in silence as Zayn gurgles in blood, his whole body twitching before laying dead, eyes wide. Louis pants, “He…”

“He got infected.” Harry breathes out, dropping his gun. It clatters to the floor, and Harry pulls at his hair, bellowing, _“Fuck!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme know what you think below :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So?” Gemma asks.
> 
> “I’ve been in quite an adventure…” Harry begins and his heart is pounding.
> 
> Gemma leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, “I reckon it’s got something to do with Louis?”
> 
> “It’s got everything to do with Louis.” Harry sighs. He doesn’t even know if he’ll want or regret this.
> 
> Gemma nods, gesturing for him to continue, “Go on, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update! This year has been so busy for the past three months but thankfully I am now officially out of school for another three months for our summer break. :)

 

**FALL**

**“You want some gear, sure, but I ain’t taking that girl off your hands.” – Tommy**

 

They jump back into the earth and both of them vault over the tree trunk blocking their way. Harry immediately steps back to where he’s stepping, stumbling over Louis’ feet. Louis purses his lips, “You’re sure this was a good place to bury him? I think—”

“Louis …” Harry sends him a look before jogging onwards, “Let’s get going.”

Louis ignores him. He’s back to his own, secluded self again. Louis says insteade, “We could cross through that small erm… bridge. Try to turn that crank.”

Harry puts his rifle to his holster before gripping on the rusty wheel. He turns it with slight struggle until half of the bridge is upright, steady for someone to walk through. The other crank is on the other side, which should control the other half of the bridge, so he huffs and groans, reaching to take off his bag to avoid more problems with soaked weapons, “Hold this for me, I’ll swim over to there to—“

“I can do it.” Louis volunteers, then he blushes slightly as Harry turns to look at him, “I um.. –“

“Suit yourself.” Harry puts on his bag again, gestures for Louis to take off his, “Take your bag off for me. I don’t want to share my weapons with you.”

“Douche.” Louis snorts and tosses Harry his bag. Harry hooks its straps to his shoulders, but this time Louis’ bag is on his front. He watches silently as Louis jumps into the rushing water and dive down to swim. Harry raises an eyebrow as Louis resurfaces with a grin on his face, clinging onto the railing and pushing himself up and over. He turns the crank and Harry waits until the thing is turned. He crosses the bridge, mindful of his steps.

“Careful.” Louis calls out.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m already through.” Harry jumps down to meet Louis, “You seem happy to have a swim.”

“Yeah, well..” Louis shrugs and his smile slips wider as he clasps his hands. Jesus, he’s soaked, “The water’s cold and it’s been hot the past summer.”

Harry walks up him, “You’d get even colder in Winter.”

“I know that.”

They jump back into the earth and both of them vault over the tree trunk blocking their way. Harry immediately steps back to where he’s stepping, stumbling over Louis’ feet. Louis purses his lips, “You’re sure this was a good place to bury him? I think—”

“Louis …” Harry sends him a look before jogging onwards, “Let’s get going.”

Louis juts his bottom lip out subconsciously as he watches Harry put some distance between them, but he catches up, “God, I’m so hungry.”

“Soup not enough for you?”

“No.”

“Let’s just get past this place and then we can hunt for some food.” Harry promises. He uses a large trunk of tree to step on as he climbs over a cliff a few feet tall. He crouches down and offers Louis his hand which Louis accepts.

They enter a shed nearby, and Louis picks up a map on the wall, “There’s a map.”

“I don’t know how to read a map.” Harry snatches a weapon, and his eyes widen as he notices a scope. It’s a scoped pistol.

“Oh, useless then.” Louis drops the map, stomping his feet down on it dramatically “Irrelevant.” Harry shakes his head.

They exit the shed and Louis observes the surroundings, finding the road blocked with equipment and other way blocked with large metal double doors, “Should we head in?” Both of them approaches the doors and Harry tries to budge the door open.

Louis hears a click and he looks up, seeing survivors with their hands down, pointing at Harry. He grabs his pistol and aims, “Harry.”

Harry stops and looks up, hands lifting up as he backs away. A man speaks up, “Tell the man to drop his weapon.”

“Louis.” Harry says firmly, and Louis hesitates, but he puts his gun down and back to his holster.

“What’s your business here?” The man asks. He still looks quite young, maybe in his late-twenties, or early thirties. He has a stubble and has brown shaggy hair, pulled back by a headband.

“We didn’t know the place was occupied.” Harry answers. “We’re just trying to make our way through.”

“To where?”

Everyone’s attention is taken as the door open slightly, and Harry sucks in a breath as he sees his sister. Gemma calls out, “They’re alright.” Damn, out of all places.

“You know these people?”

Gemma steps to the outside, her own shotgun swung behind her, “He’s my brother.” She steps closer and wraps her arms around Harry’s shoulders. Harry returns the hug, his arms around her waist.

As they pull back, Harry scoffs, “You’ve gotten old.” She’s not that bad. Her hair is brown, seems slightly faded. It’s shorter now, up until her neck. Harry guesses it’s because of the work and all. She’s always one to get frustrated, even if it’s only about hair.

“Watch it.” Gemma says, but it’s soft, “Fuck. It’s been years.” Her eyes rakes over Harry’s demeanor, seeing his ridiculous clothes and dirty jeans, “How old are you?”

“25, thank you very much.” Harry rolls his eyes, “You’re probably 35 right now.”

“29, don’t overreact.” Gemma tears her gaze from Harry and to his companion, “I caught your name is Louis?”

“Yeah, hi.” He accepts the handshake that was offered.

The man from earlier comes down and joins the trio, offering Harry and Louis both a handshake, also, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, um…” Harry pulls his lips into a tight line, “Thanks for not blowing my head off.”

“It’ll be embarrassing.” The man chuckles, “I wouldn’t kill my own brother-in-law.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks at Gemma, who smiles and links an arm with her husband, “This is Charlie. Be nice to him, he runs all stuff in here. Sort of.”

“Well, let’s get inside, yeah?” Charlie leads them all inside and closes the door securely behind them. He leads them to their camp, calling out, “False alarm! They’re alright!”

“So this is where you’re staying?” Harry asks Gemma, “Thought I’m going to find you a few miles more.”

“Well, be happy you found me sooner.” Gemma points out. She glances over where Louis is looking, following his gazes where some horses are. He looks back to Harry, “How did Louis join with you?”

“Long story, Gemma.” Harry sighs, “Maybe for some other time.”

“Are those horses?” Louis asks, “Holy shit. Horses!”

“You can go check them out.” Charlie leads Louis to the horses, and Gemma and Harry follow. Louis looks completely fascinated with the animals, petting their mane and smiling in adoration.

“His name is Callus, and the other one is Max.” Charlie says.

Harry steps closer and pets the horse, watching as its tail sway from side-to-side happily, “There, there.”

“If you guys want, we could ride around later. It’s beautiful since it’s autumn.” Charlie offers, smiling widely.

Harry decides that he likes him for Gemma. Louis nods, “I’d love that, actually.”

“You ever ride a horse before?” Gemma asks to Louis.

“Once back when I was like … fifteen or so.” Louis smiles, his hand still attached to Callus’ mane.

“Well, let’s eat first, yeah?” Gemma takes Harry’s arm and links hers through it. Louis watches as the siblings walk off inside.

“So, what’s with you and um.. Harry?” Louis can tell that Charlie is still uncomfortable with the fact that he pointed a goddamn gun to the baby brother of his wife, but he brushes it off.

“We’re um…” Louis clears his throat, “We’re friends. But how we met is kind of a long story. How about you and Gemma?”

“We used to be Fireflies back then.” Charlie smiles at the memory, “We met at our camp years ago, and then she got sick of the group and I left with her, started our own group. We took in survivors and they expanded and all that. It’s been like that for years.”

“That’s incredible.” Louis smiles. He wishes he can do something like that; save lives and trust them like family.

They follow Gemma and Harry inside where Gemma has two plates on one of their tables and serving food. Louis rushes and sits across Harry, clasping his hands under the table as he eyes the food. Harry kicks his foot under the table which takes his attention. Louis whispers, “What?”

“Don’t hog the food.” Harry frowns at him.

“Oh hush, Haz.” Gemma sits next to Harry, “Go on. Eat.”

Louis quickly fills his plate, grinning in satisfaction as he takes the first bite, “Wow, these tastes amazing. Haven’t had these in days.”

“Compliments to the chef.” Gemma smiles, but then it quickly fades as her transceiver catches her attention. She rolls her eyes and stands up, answering it.

Louis says to Harry, “Your sister is beautiful.”

“She’s old.”

Louis snorts but decides to let it slide, “Will we stay here?”

Harry purses his lips, “I’ll ask if we can stay at least one night in here before we set off early in the morning.”

“Good. I think my legs are more muscle-y than my torso. It’s not even equal with all the running and walking.” Louis complains. He looks back to see Gemma talking to Charlie, until he nods and kisses her forehead before leaving, jogging up to some stairs.

“Sorry about that.” Gemma sits back down, “Had to check some stuff up there.”

“How’d you start this place?” Harry asks, and Louis notices how Harry sticks his tongue whenever he has to take a bite. He scrunches his nose and gets back to his own food.

“Charlie and I found it.” Gemma nods, and she seems so proud, “We’re twenty families strong now. We’ve got crops and everything.”

“A bit heavy on the shoulders, is it? With all the families to feed and all that.”

“It’s fine. We all help each other here.”

“That’s good.” Harry takes a big gulp of water, pauses, and then he drinks the whole water in one more gulp.

“Jesus, aren’t you thirsty.” Gemma scowls, “What were you doing around here? This place is full of bandits, did you know that? Though, it’s quite quiet these days, you should still be careful.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “We didn’t encounter bandits just yet. We’re alright. We just um… We just need a place to stay for the night.”

“Sure, yeah, of course.” Gemma says instantly, “We’ve got a small room at the very back. Sorry; we need to upgrade on the bedrooms.”

“It’s fine. We can share a room.”

The two finish their food for quite a long time, going in for rounds and rounds of plates until they’re stuffed. “Alright, you pigs.” Gemma laughs, “I’ll give you a tour, yeah? At the same time you both can rest your stomachs.”

Harry and Louis follow Gemma further inside the building. They follow her to a room, up a staircase and another door which leads to outside. As they go on outside, they see a bunch of men with yellow helmets scattered around, doing their own job. It has started drizzling a few minutes ago, so Gemma takes the boys’ bags and asks one particular man to put it in a particular vacant room for a little while so their stuff don’t get wet, “Do you two want to go inside, too?”

“We’re fine.” Harry says, glancing at Louis, “I want to see this little town of yours.”

The power plant from earlier is seen near, and dam is still rushing onwards. Harry keeps his hands on his pockets, “Do you do well for the protection and all?”

“We’ve got the adults to guard the perimeter and they take turns every day so nothing should be a problem. We’ve got electric fences, too, as soon as the plant’s working and giving off electricity.” Gemma explains. Her body is quite muscled, Louis observes, but her body’s still quite small for a shotgun swung on her back.

As they get through a gate, they notice a dog in the corner sleeping, seeming peaceful with life. Louis smiles fondly as the dog looks up at the new visitors. Gemma notices, “His name is Dallas. He’s more of a pet more than a guard. He’s really friendly.”

Louis crouches down next to Dallas and pets its head carefully before standing up to follow the two. They arrive at a turbine station. Gemma stops to talk at the two men with a blueprint laid in front of them, “These two geniuses are going to get the plant back to life. They said it.”

“You don’t believe us?” One man asks with a grin.

“I didn’t say that.” Gemma chuckles.

“Oh it’s going to work, I bet you million bucks.”

“Make it two, then.”

“We’ll show you.” The same man laughs, “We’re nearly done. We just need to put the shield on then we’re good.”

“I’ll let you guys watch how we work every day.” Gemma leads the man out of the room and into where two turbines, huge and circular, stand across each other. The other one is already done, and the men are working on the left one, putting the shield on slowly and carefully. One man is yelling out instructions, and once the shield is on and ready, he calls out, “Gemma’s here! We’re good to go!”

“Alright, hit it.” Gemma says back, giving the signal.

An engine starts up, the noise loud, and the lights flickers on at the same time. Gemma grins, “We did it, boys. Someone tell Charlie the news, yeah?”

“Wow.” Louis almost gapes. He’s never witnessed electromagnetic- _whatever-the-fuck-you-call-it_ before. This is definitely a first.

As they exit the station and back downstairs, Harry snorts, “Looks like you’re out a million bucks.”

“Whatever, Harry.”

She opens a door and a long hallway is seen. It looks like a dormitory, and Harry and Louis follow her until the very end. Some doors are opened, and Louis subtly peeks at the corner of his eye. One room contains a family; two adults, and one daughter. “This isn’t the only dorm we have, if you think that it’s impossible to fit 20 families in here.” Gemma informs, “We’ve got another one a few doors down.”

“So you and Charlie get the master bedroom?” Harry asks, and Louis nudges him with his elbow with the remark.

“No.” Gemma frowns, genuinely confused. She swings open a door. The room contains two single beds, both forced to the wall. It looks clean. There’s a little closet enough for two in the side, but Louis doubts that he and Harry will use it, because they’ll only stay here for one night. Louis spots their bags sitting on the corner, and he sighs out in relief.

“Is this enough?” Gemma asks, scanning their face for any signs of disapproval, “I can ask Marvin to move in here for the day so you can take his room. It’s a bit larger and—“

“This is fine, Gemma.” Harry nods, “We get a bed, that’s all that we need.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Alright.” Gemma lifts her wrist to look at the time, “It’s 6:15. Dinner should be out by 9, but if you two want to eat anything you can either go to me or Charlie. I figured you two only wanted rest instead of touring around here.”

“Where’s the loo?” Louis asks.

“Oh, two doors to the right out of the dorm.” Gemma says, “Do you two need anything? More pillows, maybe?”

“We’re alright, Gemma. Go to your husband. We can take care of ourselves.” Harry tries to usher her away, but she stays put until Louis excuses himself to go to the loo.

“How’d you meet him, Harry?” Gemma asks, sitting down one of the beds. Harry sighs and plops down down on the other.

“Why does it matter?”

“I just want to know.” She insists, “Please?”

“He’s a Firefly, alright?” Harry just wants to rest and to sleep, possibly skip dinner. He’s still not ready to face his sister, let alone talk or interact with her. _I’m trying, alright?_ “This man stole my stuff and sold it to the Fireflies. Eleanor came around and made a deal with me and… and Liam. She said she’ll double the guns that the bastard stole from me as long as I could something out of the city, and I didn’t know it was that guy.”

“You’re _way_ out of the city, Harry.” Gemma points out, “And who’s Liam?”

“He’s been with me for five years, more like that cheesy partner-in-crime, literally.” Harry pulls his lips into a tight line, “I _know_ we’re way out of the city, Gemma. We’re supposed to just go to the Capitol because of the Fireflies waiting for us there. On the way, I didn’t know Liam got bit and when we get to the Capitol where we’re supposed to meet the Fireflies to take Louis, they’re all dead. He insists for me to take him to you to ask where the Fireflies are now so I could get this all done with. But right now I’m not so sure.”

“Shit, Haz.” Gemma’s eyes soften, “I can tell you where the Fireflies are tomorrow when you two are both completely awake; I know you’re both dying to sleep right now, but what do you mean like you’re so sure anymore?”

Louis enters the room quietly, hands wet with the water and as well as his face. Harry glances at him and back to Gemma, “I’ll explain everything to you tomorrow. I’m going to rest.”

Gemma sighs and stands up, looking at Louis, “There are some towels in the closet, love, as well as toothbrushes enough for you both. All the toothpaste and soap would be in the stalls. I’ll wake you two up after dinner’s served.”

“Thank you.” Gemma pats his shoulder before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly. Louis walks to the closet and grabs a clean towel, beginning to dry his face and hands. Harry breathes out before bending down to take out off his boots and socks. He reaches for Louis’ bag suddenly and zips it open. He rummages through it. Louis’ about to open his mouth to probably protest until a shirt is tossed to his face.

Harry drops his bag down, “Change your shirt. You’re barely dry from that swim you took earlier in the dam. I don’t exactly have medicine for colds.”

Louis bites the inside of his cheek, wishing he’s pale enough so Harry doesn’t notice his blush, “Thanks.”

Harry groans and drops back down into his pillow, turning on his stomach and sprawling his giant self into the bed. His back is plenty thankful for the mattress, and he hasn’t laid down in _days._  Louis takes off his jacket and changes out of his shirt, still slightly wet. He hangs his clothes on the headboard of his bed. He towels himself dry before putting on the shirt Harry tossed to him. It’s a long sleeved shirt with its sleeves black and the rest white. On the torso is a large happy face with three eyes, written below it are the words, _Have a nice day!_ He likes it.

He puts it on and makes sure the sleeves are covering his bite. People will surely freak out if they see that he has a bite. He’d get killed instantly. His jeans are soggy, but he doesn’t complain anymore; he simply takes off his combat shoes before plopping down on his bed, groaning in relief once his spine is finally rested into something soft.

Harry lifts his head and his eyes land on Louis, “Oh, you’re done.”

Louis’ eyebrows furrowed his eyes in confusion, “You were sleeping remember?”

Harry stays silent, until he clears his throat and shifts until he’s facing the wall, “Nevermind.”

The hours drift by, and the boys each have their perfect slumber since the past few days. Harry’s the first one to wake up, snapping out of his sleep with the series of slow knocks on his door. He looks back at Louis’ bed and he frowns as he finds it empty. He gets up to his feet and puts on his boots. He answers the door and shakes the hair out of his eyes.

Gemma’s the one standing at the door, “Hey, dinner’s ready.”

“Sure.” Harry hesitates, “Where’s Louis?”

“He’s already at the table.” She smiles, “You don’t want to shower first before you go?”

“No, I’m alright.” He follows Gemma out of the dorm and into their large dining room. It’s like a cafeteria in high school, except there’s lack of soldiers and military all over. Harry barely spots Louis, but he does after he’s scanned every single face ranging from adults, babies, teenagers and kids. He’s in the very front table with Charlie and the two geniuses from earlier.

“This is … massive.” Harry comments.

“It is, isn’t it?” Gemma smiles and she has a look of proud on herself like she gave birth to all these people.

She leads him through the mass and into their table. She sits next to Charlie while Harry plops down next to Louis, who already has eaten half of his plate. Harry stifles a laugh, “Didn’t wait for me?”

Louis’ eyes widened, blue and bright, “Oh! Sorry. I just—“

“It’s…” Harry furrows his eyebrows in confusion as to why he had reacted like that, “It’s alright. I was … I was kidding.”

“Well, eat now, then!”

Harry’s eyes are curious while his mouth is hungry, biting down bites and bites of food on his spoon. This dining area is seriously large. There are at least fifteen long tables and seated are the families that Gemma and Charlie had supported through these years. It’s soul-lifting to see all these innocent people surviving. It’s been days since Harry’s seen one, except for Niall and Zayn. It’s all hunters and military and infected and Louis and no one else.

“You can trust all these people?” Harry asks Gemma, “I mean, it’s not easy to take strangers in.”

Gemma sighs, “It takes a little while, Harry, but … I did take Louis, yeah?”

Harry’s back straightens and his scowl is deep, “It’s because he’s with me. I mean, even though he’s alone, you’d still take him in ‘cause—“

“Harry.” Louis murmurs slowly, placing a hand on Harry’s arm.

Harry stops and shakes his hand off, stuffing his mouth full to avoid more talking. Louis looks at him quite worriedly before getting back to his own good. He learned many things about this little adventure, and one of them is about how Harry’s temper always seems to run low every time. Harry’s like a fragile person, and Louis wants to know the complete and true story of his life until now.

Dinner’s quiet all of a sudden, in their table at least, and Harry knows he’s added some tension in, but he can’t really act like nothing happened between him and his sister, because he’s not ready to let that go like she did with him.

“I’m going to shower.” Harry announces, standing up from his seat abruptly, “Thank you for the food.”

He remembers the way back to his and Louis’ room. He grabs a new shirt, the other towel sitting in the closet and as well as the toothbrush before making his way to loo. Back at the table, Louis asks Gemma, “Is he always like that?”

“Like what?” Gemma offers him a polite smile.

“Like a douche.” Louis huffs out, “I mean, he’s just … you’re his sister and—“

“It’s alright. I owe him so much.” She sighs but she waves a hand, “That’s another story to tell. But he did mention how you two met.”

Louis’ eyes widened. Did she know about the bite? “Well, um… it’s quite a long story.”

“He told me about it. Not clear, to be honest, but it’s alright.” She chuckles. “He’s become a very… closed person now.”

“Closed?”

She clears his throat and opens her mouth to speak but Charlie stands up with the other two men, “We’ll talk about some plans for tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure.” He kisses her forehead before leaving with the two men beside him. Louis feels even nervous now.

“What I want to say was …” She pauses, “He’s not that private with himself before. He seems … more mature now, and I can’t believe he’s only twenty-five.”

“He’s sometimes scary.” Louis admits, “But other than that.. he’s pretty cool… and serious about everything.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say. He’s been so lonely since our parents died.”

“He’s mentioned it to me.” Louis tells her, “I’m so sorry about that, by the way.”

“It happens to everyone, that’s one thing he should’ve realized. He’s become so hurt by it because he’s so young when he lost two people that’s o important to him.” Gemma gives him a sad smile, “And I should have realized that he just needs someone there for him, but I left him instead.”

Louis wants to say something, anything, but nothing comes out as he fishmouths. Gemma chuckles sadly, “It’s alright. You don’t have to pour some sympathy me. It’s him you need worry about. I heard he’s taking you to the Fireflies?”

“Yeah, and after he does, he gets some guns double what’s sold to Eleanor.” Louis explains, “I won’t know what he’ll do after that.”

“God, how long has it been since you two met?”

“A few couple of months, maybe?.” Louis nods, calculating in his mind, and he thinks, wow, they’ve been through so much now.

Gemma doesn’t answer; she looks at Louis with this indescribable look on her face. Louis looks around subtly, and then shrugs, “What is it?”

“Nothing. I just …” She shrugs back. She coughs into her palm before she stands up, “I’m sure you want to get off my interrogation so I’ll let you go. You know your way back, right?”

“Of course, thank you for the meal.” Louis smiles before walking back to the dorms. He finds the room empty, and he confusedly grabs a shirt from his bag, the left toothbrush and his towel. His jacket and shirt has dried off on the headboard while his jeans and pants have dried off when he’s wearing them.

He walks to the loo, the stalls practically full. He has to wait for one to exit, leaning against the sinks. He stands up as he hears a lock click before a stall door swings open. Harry comes out, wiping his towel on his head to dry his hair, fallen down straight into the back of his neck and on his face.

“Hey.” Louis greets, walking and stepping around Harry to get into the shower cubicle.

“Are you going straight to bed afterwards?” Harry asks.

Louis nods slowly, “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“No reason.” Harry turns around and walks out. As Louis hears the door shut, he sighs and closes the door to his cubicle.

He takes longer than five minutes into the cubicle. It’s probably because of the water. It’s cold and refreshing, although he’ll honestly prefer the power plant dam than this shower, but it must be the same water anyway. After he showers, he pulls out the drain and dries himself. He wears the same boxers on, which is very disgusting, but something is better than nothing.

His upper half up feels fucking great, but his other bottom half is still fucking disgusting because of the clothes, but he doesn’t want to be a whiny bitch, so he keeps his mouth shut as he walks back to their dorm. Everyone’s getting ready to sleep, and most of the adults are still awake, ready with their guns. They need to be more awake during the nighttime.

When he gets to the room, Harry’s already knocked out, all sprawled out on his back and his arms crossed on his back, eyebrows still knitted tightly. Louis chuckles softly before putting down his towel and his clothes, putting them back on the headboard for them to dry off his sweat. He doesn’t want to sleep in his jeans, but he has to because he can’t die in his fucking overused underwear in case they’re being attacked.

He puts his blanket halfway over him, keeping his bottom half covered but feet exposed. The room is dark without the light on, but the light on the crack of the door and the window provide some sort of light for him. He hates the dark.

Harry wakes up a few hours later, feeling even more tired when he has forced his eyes open. It’s still dark, so he closes his eyes again to attempt to get back his rest. Bt he hears something. He hears a whimper, and another one. He uncrosses his arms and looks over to Louis’ figure lying on the other bed. He’s on his back, a distraught look on his face. His head is moving from side-to-side and his hands are clenched.

Harry frowns, his movements full of hesitation but he manages to pull himself up on his feet. It’s not a long distance, two steps and he’s standing by Louis’ bed. He gulps then kneels down, “Louis?”

“No.” Louis gasps.

Harry brings a hand up this time, moving it to Louis’ chest, feels how Louis’ heartbeat is quickening under his touch, “Louis.” He says more firmly, “Lou, wake up.”

Louis gasps out, eyes flying open. They’re instantly teary as he looks around the room until his gaze lands on Harry’s. He forces himself to sit up, making Harry pull his hand back to himself quickly as Louis tries to calm his breathing, “Shit, sorry. I… I was having a—“

“Are you okay?” Harry keeps his position on the floor.

“Yeah…” Louis gulps, “Yeah, sorry I woke you up.”

“I woke myself up.” Harry pushes himself up and sits on Louis’ bed, scratching at his scalp.

Louis pushes his knees to his chest, hugging them close, “Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired, but I can’t go back to sleep.” Harry breathes out before he looks at Louis, “Are you going back to sleep?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Louis shakes his head, his fingers clasped together and thumbs fidgeting, “It’s not a pleasant… dream or whatever.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

Louis takes a moment to stare at Harry with surprise written all over his face, but he subtly covers it. Harry shrugs at him, “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just …” Louis clears his throat, already careful of his words, “You don’t usually want to talk to me, like… in an actual conversation.”

“Take it as a first.” Harry pauses, “Actually, it’s the second. Will you tell me about your perspective?”

Louis’ eyebrows shoot up, “My what?”

Harry scoots back until his back is against the wall, “Restoration of humanity.”

“Wha… oh, oh!” Louis nods, “Yeah, I remember, sorry.”

“So what is it? I told you mine.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, I mean, we have all the time.” Harry purses his lips, “Unless you don’t want to—“

“Restoration of humanity, hm?” Louis cuts him off, “If you think that this world has no hope anymore, I think it does.”

“Is that regarding your condition?” Harry quirks up an eyebrow.

Louis ignores his question, “I’ve always wanted to be like …this hero. This hero who saves lives and restores faith in humanity. It’s just … It’s a nice feeling to make people happy. Don’t you feel that?”

“It’s been a long time since I made someone genuinely happy.”

Louis pauses at the man’s words, but he simply clears his throat, “I doubt that anyone can be happy during a time like this.”

“Happiness is inevitable.” Harry leans his head back against the wall, his shoulders relaxed, “Even at all times, happiness _can_ come. You just have to be… brave enough to accept that you can smile and laugh even though everything’s falling apart around you.”

“Then why can’t you?” Louis bites his tongue, because he’s afraid that everything might be too soon. He can’t force Harry to open up to him.

“Yeah? For these months with us being together literally 24/7? You haven’t seen me smile for once?”

“Well….” Louis feels even more timid now, “It’s not enough.”

Harry shifts from his position, and it makes Louis shrink a little that he must have made the man uncomfortable. His thoughts are partially true, because Harry immediately changes the topic, “I asked you a question.”

Louis decides to just brush off the sudden awkward atmosphere; he’s already dead set on making everything between them … relaxed. With Harry, it’s practically all instructions and information here and there. He wants Harry as his friend, “As I was saying, ever since I was a kid, even way before … this… everything happened. I once scratched my knee when I was six because I saw a cat like … on top of a monkey bar.”

Harry’s lips curve into a small smile, but it shrinks back once again as Louis speaks, watching the younger lad’s thin lips move, “Well, I was absolutely useless after that, but I still want to be a hero. Year after year, I watch the… ‘humans’ deteriorate. They either die, turn or both. It’s a scary fucking progress. Fuck, it’s not progress at all. It’s a literal living nightmare, a horror show. Every day I try to keep myself out of danger and follow all the rules and train myself as much as possible. You knew how I got bit –unless you went and forgot all about it—“

“With your best friend, I know.”

“Yeah.. well.” Louis licks his lips, looking down on his dry bite on his forearm. He lightly traces it with his finger. “My life turned around, and everyone was being extra careful around me like I would die because of a splinter.”

Harry watches Louis’ light touch and he almost wants to reach out to touch himself, “Of course they’d be scared as hell to handle you. You have the cure in you.”

“The thing is, I’ve wanted to be a hero, but this time I’m … how do I put this..” Louis scratches the back of his head, “I guess it’s safe to say that I’m scared.”

“Do you even know what will happen if they … get that … vaccine out of you?” Harry asks.

“I have no fucking idea.” Louis breathes out a chuckle, “But that is what I would want. If, possibly, the whole world can turn back to normal and multiply and shit because of _me..?_ Holy fuck, I’d be so proud of myself.”

Harry laughs, immediately shrinking it to a chuckle, “Maybe I can brag about meeting the cure for humanity when I’m older.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Louis tilts his head to the side in question, “What would you like to be? I mean… if all this hasn’t happened.”

Harry tugs his knees closer to his chest as if he’s cold, “It hasn’t crossed my mind. It’s all about surviving and I don’t have time to wander and imagine things that can never happen.”

Louis notices his position and reaches back to grab his jacket, “You cold?”

Harry takes it and puts it all over his torso without putting his arms through the arm sleeves, “Thanks.”

“Give it a chance.” Louis suddenly says.

“Hm?”

“What you wanted to become.” Louis repeats.

“Oh.” Harry mumbles. Louis watches patiently as Harry purses his lips, his eyebrows in a frown. Louis stays quiet, but he breaks his intent stare towards the curly man. He looks at his wound instead. It still has deep bite marks on it, and he can still feel and practically see the zombie latching onto his limb with its teeth. He remembers that it’s a female, blonde and short-haired. She looked like an employee in that mall, probably the manager or the supervisor, but it didn’t matter. Everyone turns into one once bitten. There’s no difference once you become one of them. Their only objective is to prey and eat to satisfy their never-ending hunger. They don’t plan to take over the world; they have no mind whatsoever. It doesn’t matter if you’re a beggar on the streets or the CEO of this particular company. They’d take you down if you have no defense and if they bite you, both of you turn into mindless abominations that makes you kill and feast on the weak.

Louis remembers that some infected had bitten on the side of his palm, that space between his thumb and index finger. It was small, looked like only two of three teeth managed to bite into his skin. It was a small, bleeding bite, but it was deadly and enough. He was ready to die, to get there first before he rose again but in a completely different perspective. Louis wasn’t. He remembered locking themselves in a room, inside a parlor shop in the mall they snuck into. Infected banged on the rolling gate, but both of them sat on different corners of the shop. It was large, and Louis eventually got up and locked himself in the storage room that smelt like rotten corpse toes and cockroaches shit.

But he was relieved that he got up at that time and locked himself in that god-forsaken room.

He remembers falling asleep. It was accidental; he planned no to sleep, but crying made him hopeless and tired, so he gave up. He woke up, and he was still in the room. Then he remembers snapping out of his sleepy trance. He had clambered up to his feet. He could tell that it was morning because of the broken exhaust fan on the top. He remembers staring at his bite longer than intended. It was dry, but there were still hints of fresh blood all over it. He didn’t feel weird; he didn’t feel _anything_ physically, for that matter.

He remembers his heart beating as he heard a bang on the locked door, once, twice, thrice. His mind clambered for information… things he learned in school about protection and defense. It was a parlor, so he there had to be scissors or shit stuffed in here. He searched the boxes. Most of them are empty, but he found rusty scissors on the floor. He kept it in his grip, tight and his knuckles white. He didn’t have time to catch his breath when the hinges of the knob of the door gives in and one infected comes barreling towards him.

He was ready, he remembers. He knew it was, but he recognizes the infected as Stan. He remembers getting slammed into the nearby wall, his stronger arm coming up to stop the force. His other hand is holding his wrist, pushing and fighting. The scissors are forgotten, because he _can’t._ He can’t kill his own fucking best friend.

But he had to at some point, so he did.

“Louis?”

Louis snaps in his little memory lane, eyes blinking wide as he finds Harry’s eyes in the dark, “Y-Yeah? Erm…” He coughs into his fist, “Yeah?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“Oh.. um. Sorry.” Louis taps his temple, “Just remembered something. What did you say?”

Harry raises his hand and repeats Louis’ movement, tapping on his forehead, “Can’t remember.”

“Oh come on.” Louis kicks him playfully.

“Alright.” Harry chuckles. He pushes some curls out of his face and it settles on top of his head, with its length, it falls to the side of his face into a curl, “I wanted to be a lawyer. If not a doctor.”

“Ooh.” Louis teases, dares to, “You’re all about helping people, too, huh?”

“Well, I wanted to take back what I did when I was a um…” He clears his throat, “a hunter.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Louis says softly, offering some reassurance

“I figured I’d open up to it to someone.” Harry shrugs.

Louis nods, “Okay, I’ll listen.”

Harry settles into the wall again, closing his eyes momentarily like he’s afraid. Louis is about to take back the offer but Harry speaks, “The first tattoo that I got was this star.” He lifts his left arm and on the skin of his triceps is a black star, “It didn’t mean anything, It was a simple tattoo, I wanted a cliché star while I was stealing and doing bad things, so I did. It wasn’t colored in yet before, but the same year I decided to color it. During those two years of being one of the hunters, I covered this arm up with pointless tattoos.”

“They’re not pointless. They’re beautiful.” Louis scoots over and takes Harry’s arm, his finger softly tapping the large rose on his forearm, “See, it’s a rose and it’s beautiful. Not like the bad ass tattoos like a gun or skull or…”

Harry snorts, lifting his arm up again. Sure enough, there _is_ a skull tattoo right by his armpit. Louis purses his lips, “Majority of your ink is poetic and … beautiful. I don’t know how else to describe them.”

“They’re kind of cool. I was smart enough not to get the fucking signature tattooed.”

“Right.” Louis gasps softly, “You’d be hiding all your life if you did.”

“Some did, actually.” Harry shrugs, “But hey, I wasn’t that reckless of a teenager when I was nineteen so I didn’t get the tattoo.”

“But you joined a group who kill people and steal their stuff.” Louis points out slowly, careful, “I think that’s the most reckless way.”

“It’s a livelihood.” Harry rolls his eyes, “Just act like that’s not disturbing.”

“I get it.” Louis waves a hand, “You need them for the food and all that.”

“Yeah, well, I quit a year after that. They didn’t take it too lightly.” Harry lifts his shirt up until his abdomen where a long line of scar belongs. It was right beside his v-line, and Louis can’t help but reach a hand out to trace it. He’s really observant, Harry notices.

Louis pulls his hand back, “They _stabbed_ you?”

“Tried to. I got away.” Harry shrugs as he pulls his shirt back down, “Suffering was an understatement after that. I was so desperate for ration cards. All I had was my clothes and my knife, and this handgun I claimed mine when I joined the hunters. I had no home, and I had nobody, not that I was finding someone or anything.”

“That’s lonely.” Louis whispers.

“It was.” Harry agrees, doesn’t even try to scoff and deny and act like he doesn’t care, “But I found Liam. He was getting attacked by four infected under this bridge. No one noticed him, but I did. I saved his life. It was hard for him to gain my trust, and it was hard for me to gain his trust, but eventually we warmed up to each other and have been partners since then. He’s like … my very fucking best friend. He was the only one that I had.”

Louis stays quiet; because he doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t know if what he’ll say will offend Harry somehow.

“We didn’t join any groups and all.” Harry continues, his fingers clasped together on top of his knees, “We stayed in our quarantines and acted like we follow the rules but every week, we go to this black market in the far end and trade our guns for ration cards so we could buy food and _more guns.”_ Louis watches as Harry circles his hands as a gesture, “It was a… cycle. We do the same thing every day. Buy guns, trade them for rations, buy food, and then buy guns _again_. That’s why I’m all gaga for finishing this adventure of ours and get you to the Fireflies safely so I can get my guns and get back at the quarantine.”

Louis ignores that little twinge in his chest, “You don’t want to stay here?”

“It’d be fucking great to stay here.” Harry admits, “Survivors, people, my sister, her fucking husband whatsoever, animals – _dogs_ and horses and just hunting everyday with people to help you out.”

“Then why would you go back? You… You’re all alone there.”

Harry breathes out, looking over and patting Louis thigh softly, “I’d rather be alone than lose them.”

Louis tries to really pay no mind to the hand on his thigh, “What do you mean?”

Harry shakes his head, “I’ve lost too many, Louis. I … If I plan to stay here and be attached to all these beautiful people, what if something bad happens? Either military finds us, infected swarm our perfect little zone or everyone gets in danger. I can’t … I can’t take another loss. It’s… It’s fucking scary, Lou. It fucking terrifies me. I don’t want to get attached and know that someday… eventually; it’s all going to slip off my grip.”

Louis notices how distressed the man’s getting. And he hesitantly places his hand gently on top of Harry’s, which has made no move to move itself from Louis, “Hey…”

Harry looks over at the man, and surely Louis could see his teary eyes. Louis reaches over and wipes them off, “You have me, alright?” Harry smiles appreciatively.

Louis sighs and taps on Harry’s hand, “I can’t _believe_ you’d cry like that in front of me.” He tsks, “And _I_ thought I was the weak man.”

Harry snorts and snatches his hand back to himself, leaving a cold spot on Louis, “I just _cried,_ shed tears and wept like a motherfucker and you tell me that?”

“I did mean that you have me.” Louis nods, “I do.”

Harry smiles, but it’s small and still sad, “But not for long.”

“You keep on ruining everything.” Louis sighs, “You’re a difficult person.”

“But you wouldn’t ask for anyone else to take you.” Harry says, but he suddenly finds the need to be assured, “Right?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty fucking cool with guns and your melee weapons.” Louis teases.

Harry shakes his head as he laughs to himself, but as he lifts his head back up, his eyes are serious, “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“When you did what exactly?”

“Back at the beach.” Harry gulps subtly, “You know I’m glad you made me jump. I was a big-headed idiot, thinking that I can take on anybody because I had so much equipment and strength but I know I don’t.”

“With or without weapons, we should know what our strengths and weaknesses are. Especially weaknesses; we have to be brave enough that we can’t do everything we want even if we try.” Louis smiles, “It’s alright. I was just trying to save us.”

“I didn’t apologize though.”

“Apologies don’t work anymore.” Louis feels his arms getting tired, so he grabs his pillow and puts it between his legs, hugging it, “But it’s your choice whether to carry on with that person or let them go, and you carried on with me. I appreciate that.”

“You’re a good person.” Harry tells him, makes sure he knows that Louis does matter to him in more ways than one.

“Thanks.” Louis smiles, playfully grinning in pride, “You’re the first person I’d think of when I’m back in the Fireflies.”

Harry releases a shaky breath. He brings his bottom lip between his teeth and just starts biting down on it, his breathing becoming heavier every second. Louis scoots closer, eyes wide and wary. He places a hand on Harry’s arm, “Harry? Are you okay?”

Louis doesn’t know how it happens, neither of them does, but suddenly Harry’s hands find their way to Louis’ cheeks and they’re getting closer and closer until Harry’s lips meet his. Louis’ eyes are wide, staring into Harry’s closed ones, but his eyebrows are still frowning, and Louis feels wet tears on his cheeks, too, but he isn’t crying.

They don’t know how long the kiss lasts, but Harry’s lips feel nice and Louis’ lips feel great. Harry tilts his head to the side, but then he’s breaking down into a sob as he pulls away and rests his forehead against Louis’ shoulder, crying freely without any boundaries.

Louis doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t question the kiss or anything else. He holds Harry close instead, his own breathing ragged. Harry pants against his neck, and then he sobs again, sniffles and whimpers evident. Louis feels bad, he really does, so he presses his lips to Harry’s temple and keep them there, waits patiently until Harry calms down, except it doesn’t come after a minute.

It comes after a while, and that ‘while’ consists of Harry hugging Louis back and digging his face deeper into Louis’ neck, into Louis’ warmth, into Louis’s comfort, into Louis. It consists of leading Louis to begin whispering soft words into Harry’s ear and stroking his hair.

Harry hates it. He hates being weak; he hates being coddled and he hates being the one to cry and shit. He hates it. Ha hates crying for people, he hates crying over anything, he hates crying over loss and death because it should be a constant now. But he allows it this time. He allows himself to let it all out, he allows himself get a taste of weakness because being strong is pretty fucking difficult, too.

“Hey…” Louis softly begins.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Harry pulls away suddenly, leaving Louis’ arms empty and cold. He watches as Harry scrubs and his eyes are red and wet as well as his cheeks.

“No, no…” Louis reaches forward but Harry coils away, shrinking into himself.

“Don’t, please.” Harry’s breathing is heavy, and he’s whispering curses to himself. He’s rocking back and forth and he’s shaking his head side to side.

“Harry, come on.” Louis himself begins to panic, because he has never dealt with a person having a panic attack, He’s seen it before, seen his friends in military school when he was a teenager suddenly break into sobs and sweat while some teachers hold him close and just whisper softly into their ears, “Come here, please. I’ll—“

“I said _stop it!”_ Harry bellows.

Louis flinches, but he covers and takes Harry’s shoulders, “Harry look at me.”

Harry tries to break away, but Louis firms up his grip. Harry meets the man’s eyes, and notices how blue they are, even in the dark, he can see the light ring of Louis’ irises. He starts to calm, he can feel it, he can feel his everything relax. But then he pulls away all too soon. He stands up to his feet, and he doesn’t even bother putting on his socks and boots before he’s bolting out the door and into the dark hallway, although he keeps his footsteps light to avoid waking the other people up and cause a scene.

Louis follows him immediately, grabbing his jacket that had fallen to the floor before wearing it hastily. He follows Harry up to the stairs past the second dormitory and the restroom to the turbine station. “Harry!” He whisper-yells.

They go through a room where they met the two men when Gemma gave them a tour. Louis groans in frustration and he picks up his pace and practically jogging to match the man’s walking pace, “Harry! Stop!”

Harry does, and it’s so abrupt that Louis slams into his back and stumbles back. Louis huffs, but he straightens up, “Please, Harry. Come on, let’s just go back to our room before somebody wakes up.”

Harry feels like an idiot, like a fucking coward, he wants to say it out loud, scream it all out, but he keeps his mouth shut as Louis sighs at him, eyes soft. When the man lifts a hand up to reach Harry, the latter wraps his hand around Louis’ bicep and forces their lips together. Something is running around Harry’s mind, must be insanity.

Louis lets out a muffled yelp at the shock and winces as Harry backs them into a wall. Harry lets go of Louis’ arm and cups his cheeks with his large hands, pulling the smaller man against him. The texture of Harry’s lips are rough, but his lips are full and so plump that no, Louis can’t resist. It’s only when Harry slides his hands to the side of Louis’ neck does Louis start kissing back. Their lips are sliding together smoothly.

Louis gasps as Harry plants his hands on his hips, just gripping on them. The older man forces his tongue to meet with Louis’, tilting his head just in the right way. Louis is practically melting, molding against Harry as their tongues touched and swiped at each other. Harry lets out a throaty moan all so suddenly. One of his hands slides up and holds Louis’ wrist, slowly guiding it around his neck. Louis responds by pulling Harry further into him, arching his back against Harry.

The room feels like spinning, and Louis’ being hoisted up. He wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and the latter grips his thighs. “God, Harry.” Louis pulls back for air because _god, he needs a break, just a little breather._

But no, Harry continues his lips to Louis’ neck, trailing open mouthed kisses to the lad’s skin before settling on the base of his neck. Putting all his strength in one arm to hold Louis up, he cups the smaller man’s jaw with the other and licked and sucked at Louis’ neck. Louis crosses his ankles behind Harry and clings to the man for dear life.

It stings, and Louis fucking loves it. He gasps again, just because Harry grips his fucking arse and pulls him more firmly against the older man’s body. They’re so close to each other, skin to skin and they both can’t get enough.

“Lou.” It sounds like a _whine,_ and Louis can’t function with his legs.

Harry lets Louis down, but his hands are still gripping Louis’ hips and Louis’ arms are still around Harry’s neck, loose and quite shaky. Harry forces his hands to wrap around Louis’ elbows before sliding up to his wrists and to his hands, his eyes closed. Louis’ breath hitches, because Harry looks so calm and relaxed and he doesn’t have that line between his eyebrows when he has a frown.

When Harry places Louis’ on his cheeks, Louis softly thumbs at Harry’s cheekbones, breathing out. Harry still has his eyes closed. Louis stares at him, because even in the dark, he’s still so beautiful, and this may probably the last he can get close to Harry.

But the man breaks it, but not so much. He rests his forehead on Louis’ shoulder, letting go of Louis’ hands before settling them to Louis’ sides, where he wraps his arms in a hug. His forearms cover the whole span of Louis’ lower back. Louis, on the other hand, has trouble covering Harry’s broad shoulders with one arm. But he brushes it off and hugs Harry as tight as Harry hugs him.

“Lou.”

“Hm?” Louis’ voice is soft, almost breathy.

“…” Harry’s quiet, “Nothing.”

Louis sighs and pulls back, “You’re weird, y’know that?”

Harry smiles, just a little pull-up on the corner of his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. He simply hugs Louis close to his chest. If you stand exactly behind Harry, you wouldn’t see Louis. He’s like a large, protective, human blanket.

Louis does it subtly, but he digs his face extra further into Harry’s neck, smiling to himself. He doesn’t know what he feels about Harry, really, it’s only been a short time… or not. They may be each other for only five days, six now, but in those five days and hundred hours, they were together each minute. They didn’t separate for more than an hour, and when they’ve been given a chance to separate, one of them just had to jump back down and risk their life even further.

He doesn’t know what Harry feels about him, too, but he doesn’t question it. Not yet. Something is going on right now, and he doesn’t want to ruin it by asking.

“Let’s go.” Louis whispers, “You tired me.”

Harry grabs Louis’ hand, running a hand through his hair as he pulls Louis from the wall. They both stay silent, and their feet are cold from being bare. They pass the turbines and down the stairs, but Harry suddenly turns back, “Don’t step on the glass.”

Louis looks to see pieces of glass on the floor from the broken window. He nods, and Harry continues to walk. Everything feels cold, but his hand is warm, grasped by Harry’s large palm. They enter their room, almost tripping on their own feet. It’s still dark, and they still have a few more hours to sleep. It’s more than enough.

“Good night.’ Louis murmurs as he pulls himself even further in his jacket, his foot curling on top of the other.

“Are you cold?” Harry asks.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got a blanket … and..” Louis shrugs. He begins to sit in his bed before he puffs up his pillow; it doesn’t do much, but he drops to his side and stares up at Harry whose still standing. They look at each other like that before Harry sighs and steps closer, plopping himself in a sitting position beside Louis’ legs. He gestures a hand for Louis to move, and Louis does so with a confused face, slowly scooting back until his back is against the wall, still lying on his side.

Harry begins to lie down, and Louis’ eyes widened. At this, the older man sits up again, “Do you mind?”

Louis shakes his head, “N-no…”

Harry smiles, “I’m cold, too.”

“O..okay.”

Harry lies down finally, “This isn’t too weird for you, no?”

Louis smiles, suddenly shy with his cheeks faintly tinted with pink, “It’s alright. You’re a fucking space heater.”

“I’m useful.”

“You keep me warm.” And he does, Louis concludes. He subtly scoots closer, and Harry lifts his arm. Louis doesn’t let go of the offer; he moves extra closer and presses his face into Harry’s neck while Harry curls his arm around Louis protectively. He turns his head downward, brushing his lips on the tips of Louis’ hair.

//

Knocks echo into the room. Harry stirs awake from the quiet sound; he’d always been a light sleeper, always alert even in his sleep. He opens his eyes and the first thing he sees are Louis’ closed eyes, and his button nose and his thin, beautiful lips. Harry leans closer to brush the tips of their noses softly before he gets up, quickly opening the door. E thanks the person on the other side for not barging in, because their door doesn’t have a lock; he thinks every door in both dorms doesn’t have locks.

“Hey.” Harry yawns, rubbing his eye to get rid of the sleep, “What time is it?”

“Breakfast.” Gemma answers, peering over Harry’s shoulder to see Louis peacefully sleeping, “Will you leave until after lunch so I can ask someone to-“

“Actually…” Harry looks back to Louis before he grabs his own shoes, bringing them out as he closes the door behind him, “I wanna talk.”

“Okay.” Gemma says, “You don’t want some food first? Or wake Louis up?”

Harry slips his shoes, standing up straight after, “Just talk first.”

“Alright. Let’s go in our office. Maybe we can eat with Louis after.” Maybe.

Harry follows the woman to the far side of the building. Harry’s debating in his mind, going back and forth and back in his decisions. He doesn’t know what’s best and what’s bad, but he just needs to do this.

“Okay.” Gemma exhales, closing the door behind Harry as they enter the room, which Harry assumes is her office. It has a large desk in the center, and two shelves pushed together in the corner and as well as gun stands behind the office chair, which is behind the desk. Gemma drags the office chair in front of the desk as Harry takes a seat on the other chair.

“So?” Gemma asks.

“I’ve been in quite an adventure…” Harry begins and his heart is pounding.

Gemma leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, “I reckon it’s got something to do with Louis?”

“It’s got everything to do with Louis.” Harry sighs. He doesn’t even know if he’ll want or regret this.

Gemma nods, gesturing for him to continue, “Go on, then.”

“He’s immune.” Harry admits, ignoring Gemma’s scoff of disbelief. He doesn’t blame her, because that’s his first reaction when he had found out, “He’s … he’s immune, Gem. I’ve seen him breathe spores enough to turn dozen men and nothing happened.”

“Why bring him here, then?” She begins to grow suspicious, but Harry knows it’s not about the immunity.

Harry pauses, because after he says this, he can’t take it back. Can’t and _won’t_. “I want you … or one of your men to take him back to the Fireflies.”

Gemma scowls, “I haven’t seen a single Firefly in years.”

“You know where they are.” Harry’s breathing is getting quite heavy, and he’s a little nervous, “Look, I just need you to take him; I don’t want to leave him alone in this-“

“You _are-“_

“You don’t get me!” Harry exclaims, “I just can’t continue this … this crusade, Gemma. You can take him back to the Fireflies and collect the payment; all the merchandise is yours.”

“What makes you think I’d do that?”

“You’d do this for me, right?”

“Harry, I can’t risk anything now that I-“

“Please, Gem.” Harry almost pleads.

“We’re not fucking talking about just a simple walk, Harry!” Gemma shouts, “It’s dangerous out there and I can’t just order ‘my men’ and bring that man to the other side of the country! _We_ have lives here, Harry. Tell Louis to go by himself if you don’t want to do this anymore-“

“That’s not fucking happening.” Harry snarls, because he can’t have something bad happen, not again, “I’ve reached this far, Gem. I even came to find _you,_ of all people, considering what you did to me years ago-“

Gemma suddenly stands up from her chair, the office chair wheeling back and hitting the wall, “Don’t even try to bring that up, Harry! You don’t know how hurt I am that I left you-“

“Just stop.” Harry scoffs, towering over his sister as he stands to his feet, “I don’t want to walk down memory lane with you. But maybe I’m stupid enough to even _plan_ on finding you.”

“I’m not trying to be selfish, Harry, even you know that.” Gemma reasons out, “I’ve made something big here and everyone lost at least something, and they’re not ‘my people’. They don’t work for me; they work _with_ me, and I can’t authorize them to just take a man to this certain place and out of their safety zone.’

“That’s what _I_ did, didn’t I?”

“None of them is you!” Gemma exclaims, “They already lost so much-“

“And I haven’t?” Harry bellows, “Oh come _on,_ Gemma, you were right fucking there when we lost the most important people in our lives, and you don’t know _anything_ about what I’ve been through and what and who I’ve lost because of this long journey. This is how you repay me then? After leaving me all on my own with nothing?”

Gemma defenses, “Do not use that against me! You survived either way! You joined the fucking hunters for fuck’s sake, and I don’t even know if I can trust you anymore! You have tattoos all over you and you’re fortunate that I even considered taking you in!”

Harry takes a step back as if the words physically harmed him, “I had no choice! I had to join them because I had to live and survive!”

“You could have done so many things other than joining a harmful and cruel group, Harry!”

“Like what? Find a love interest and take in groups of survivors and own a fucking safety zone?” Harry scoffs, “I _apologize,_ Gemma, but I’m not that lucky in life. I can’t do things as good as you, so excuse me for being a failure and bringing you the cure for humanity, which you refuse to take.”

Harry doesn’t spend a single second to look at his sister as he moves out of the way to walk towards the door, although when he’s about to swing the door, a siren sounds and he pauses with the door wide open. “What the hell is that?”

“Get the fuck back in.” Gemma orders as she scrambles to her holster stand and grabs a shotgun, making sure it’s loaded before tossing it at Harry, who catches it with slight alarm, “We’re under attack.”

Harry instantly stands behind the wall, peeking every now and then before he crouches down and goes up the same staircase Gemma and him had walked through earlier. He needs to get back at the dorm, or stay alive, he supposes.

“Bandits!” A man shouts, alerting the others, and there are suddenly men with their own guns with yellow helmets worn. Harry thinks the helmets are helpful, because he’s afraid that he might shoot one of Gemma’s people and he can’t say it’s an accident.

As he reaches the top staircase, he pauses at the steps for a second as he hears footsteps. There’s shooting outside, and as well as the bottom floor. Although, he can’t just keep on shooting; his bag is left in his and Louis’ room and the weapon he only has is the shotgun Gemma gave him, and probably his combat skills.

The top floor, where you can see the turbines from above, has bandits scattered all over, and he dives behind a plywood resting against the railings. No one has seen him, yet, and he needs to get out from behind the wood fast instead someone shoots it and the bullet goes through him.

He goes forward, his head down and ducks behind two stacked crates. They see him, and at least two or three are aiming at him. There are others, though, but they’re too far off inside. The turbines are still working, moving in circular motions like a fan and others are using it as a shield somewhat. Harry peeks from the crate, just one eye out before he aims, his other eye squinting to focus. He nails one on a second try, and he faintly hears a choking sound. Someone shoots the other one, and Harry takes the opportunity to run back down. All he needs is to find Louis, and possibly take his bag, too. The rooms are on the other side, and he’s ducking behind one turbine. He looks up, and there are other hunters in their hiding spots on the second floor. He crouches down and gets under the balcony as much as he can. Behind a toppled desk, he leans the mouth of his gun on it and aims.

He’s halfway there, and once he’s satisfied with his hooting he hides behind another turbine. As he nears the end of it, Gemma appears. He nearly shoots, but he stops himself. Harry whispers, although no one can hear him even if he uses his normal voice because of the constant gunshots, “Where’s Louis?”

“I don’t know where he is.” Gemma says, “But he’s going to be safe, you know that.”

Harry passes by her and quickly runs through the double doors, vaulting over this weird machine and landing on his arse behind him with a slight grunt. Other men are behind him; either behind the wall, or by the door, or behind covers. The doors of the two dorms and the restrooms are there, and he’s near.

He helps the other men shoot the bandits before he gets out of the doorway’s sight and into the wall. From there, he runs to the second door, barging through it and closing it right after. The people are still in there, shivering in fear and holding onto each other, although the other rooms are empty, and when Harry gets to the last room, he swings it open. It’s empty, too.

“Fuck.” He doesn’t spot their bags, and as well as the towel and Louis’ jacket and everything. “Shit!” He pulls at his hair before walking the hallway, then, but he stops when he’s about to open it, opening it just a crack. He uses the shadow on the floor, and he keeps himself plastered near the door. As someone grips the door from the other side, Harry slams it towards their direction. A groan sounded and Harry slips out of the door, kicking it back with his foot before tackling the bandit to the floor with hands on the neck, pressing on the very base of it for lack of air. Harry only knocks him unconscious, and he steals his handgun before putting it on his holster.

//

“There’s only a few coming in.” Charlie informs on his transceiver, “We’ve got the gates locked and tight but no one’s trying to barge in anymore. Are there more inside?” A muffled voice responds.

Louis is ducked behind a long table in the large dining area, hand gun on hand. His bag is swung on him while Harry’s is on his front. Charlie offers to take it, but Louis refuses and ignores him. He’s just going to the dining area for fuck’s sake, and suddenly the siren’s blasting out before he can even take a seat. Food is all over the place, plates cracked and glasses scattered and dangerous. It’s disgusting, stepping over rice and nearly slipping on soup, but Louis manages, but he’s still worrying. He woke up with only himself in his and Harry’s room. At first, he thinks it’s fine because the lad may be in the loo or talking to Gemma, but when he hears the siren, his heart rises up to his throat. He can’t have anything bad happening to Harry.

“Where are you?!” Charlie demands into his transceiver.

“I’m inside by the turbines!” He recognizes the voice; it’s Gemma’s.

“Get the fuck out of there, then!” Charlie curses under his breath.

“We’re trapped!” Gemma informs, gunshots louder than her voice, “We’ll finish this, alright?”

Charlie suddenly moves to the next table where people are still fearfully using as a cover. The doors of the room are locked with planks acting as a latch. He sneaks past the other table and into the door where he entered a while ago, keeping his gun ready and reloading it. He hides behind the doorway against the opposite wall, peeking in to see the commotion. He’s quite far from the dorms, and no, he’s not going back there, because he’s got everything he needs, with the exception of Harry.

He goes through the door and shuts it behind him, keeping himself crouched down as he ducked to the nearest cover. There’s a bandit on the top railing, hidden from everyone else, except from the angle he’s in. He aims, his finger pulling on the trigger fast and sending the bandits toppling over and slipping through the railing and onto the very bottom, meters away from Louis.

Louis almost gags at the smell of blood, because there’s too many people dying and too much blood, but he remembers that he’s been in so much worse situations like the sewers and fifteen years ago.

“Where are you, Harry?” He asks himself quietly, and he peeks at the top of his cover to scan his area. Most of the bandits are dead, lifeless and bloody on the ground, but he still needs to be careful.

He keeps his head down as tries to maneuver around the dead bodies, tripping on an arm or a leg. “We got them all!” One signals out, and the others all come out of their hiding spots with a great sigh, their clothes and skin each have a hint of blood.

Three passes Louis to get to the dining room where most of the people are, but Louis doesn’t know where to go. He’s just finding Harry, and he doesn’t know where Harry is. He peers up to scan the top balcony, and he sees Charlie checking up on Gemma, but no sign of Harry. The man climbs up the stairs, panting heavily as he reaches the two, “Hey, where’s Harry?”

Gemma stares at him, and her eyes contain something he can’t understand. Louis shrugs at her, clueless, “What?”

Charlie looks behind his shoulder, “Hey, Harry. You alright?”

Louis whips behind him before he approaches Harry, stopping right in front of the man, “Oh my God, I thought you’re dead!” He sucks in a sharp breath, his arms flailing around as he ranted, “I didn’t see when I woke up and-“

“Are you-“ Harry tries to butt in.

“You were still missing when those fucking bandits came in! I was on the dining area and many people got shot and… and you didn’t even have your bag and your guns, you stup-“

Harry cups his face, taking the smaller man’s face between his hands and making Louis stare at him. Louis’ arms fall by his side as he gulps, looking up at Harry’s wide eyes. Harry asks, slowly, “Are you alright?”

Louis breathes out, shrugging, “Yeah… yeah, of course. You?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but he exhales and lets go of Louis, and _then_ he answers, “I’m… I’m okay.”

It’s off, everything is off. When all the people are advised to stay outside so they can take care of everything inside, Harry and Louis stay at the balcony they passed by through earlier where they can see the whole dam with Louis having his elbows resting on the metal railing.

None of them speak, because the atmosphere is calm and comfortable. It’s quite chilly so Louis tucks himself further inside his jacket. Harry stays standing up, his arms crossed and weight leaning on one leg. It’s eating him; what he wants to say and what he wants to do. It’s crazy, really, and he knows he shouldn’t have kissed Louis yesterday, or… earlier that morning. He doesn’t know how to bring it up, because he can’t act like it’s casual. It’s not. It’s scary and Louis’ reaction is suspense. He doesn’t know if it’s love –he doesn’t know anything about love- but he certainly does care for Louis. Quite a lot and it’s overwhelming him.

“Is it too soon for me to ask what’s going on?” Louis softly asks.

Harry tenses, “What?”

Louis sighs, and he looks back at the beautiful view, “Nothing. I figured you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Listen.” Harry ignores his comment, because he does want to talk about it, his voice is just not strong enough to be willing, “We should stop this.”

Louis’ eyebrows shoot up, “We’ve only just begun.”

And it stings, because Louis thinks that Harry’s talking about what happened to them last night, “No… we…” Harry pauses, “We begun months ago, Louis, remember?”

Louis frowns, confused, until that frown loosens up and he looks at Harry, deadpanned, “You’re kidding.”

There’s no way he can back down now that it’s brought up, “I can’t continue this anymore. I talked to Gemma earlier and-“

“You gave up on me.”

“That’s…” Harry inhales sharply, “That’s not true…”

Louis continues to look away, not daring to look straight into Harry’s eyes and both of them hates it, “So you’ll leave me with Gemma? Is that it?”

Harry has extreme difficulty saying it, “Yes,” but it sounds like it was easy for him.

“Okay.” Louis nods. He’s still not looking towards Harry, “Okay.”

“That’s it?” Harry hates it, “That’s it? You’re not going to question me why?”

“Why do I have to care?” Louis’ voice cracks and he finally, _finally_ looks over, but when Harry sees his eyes, they are brighter than usual, teary and broken, “Why do I have to care when you obviously don’t?”

Harry scoffs, “Who said that I don’t? Louis, I-“ He hisses, “Louis, I fucking kissed you against a wall. Doesn’t that prove that I do care?”

“No, because what you’re doing right now is the complete opposite!” Louis shouts, his voice cracking. “Last night was fucking amazing and now it’s like you’re just throwing it out into the wind! You want to leave? Fine, I don’t care! It’s not like I’m not used to people leaving and dying on me!” There are tears down Louis’ cheeks, and his eyes are already red. He wipes them hastily with his palms before pushing past Harry, making the older lad stumble back at the slight impact.

Harry whips around, “It’s hard for me, too!” Louis stops, but keeps his back towards the man. Harry continues, “It’s hard for me to leave yet I want to because I don’t want to get my hopes up and get crushed _again!_ I want to leave right _now_ before it gets out of control because I figured it’d be so much easier for me to move on after you saved the world.”

“What …” Louis hiccups, “What are you even talking about?”

“God…” Harry groans, pulling at his hair, “You’re so obsessed with being a hero that I can’t have the will to convince you not to do it because I’ll be selfish if I did! After they get the cure from your head, what then? I go back to my zone with hundreds of guns by my side but not someone who I want to be with? You’re … Of _course,_ after years of surviving in a zombie apocalypse, I fall for someone who’s fucking immune and needed by the whole world.”

Louis wheezes, shaking his head, “I couldn’t help it- I didn’t … I didn’t know-“

“Fuck, Louis. I know that. I blame myself. I blame myself for being so weak around you.” Harry’s breathing is heavy, and he’s highly aware that his eyes are getting blurry because of his tears, “It’s only been months, and it would be pretty fucking ridiculous if we’re in a normal world. But we’re not. During those months, through summer, fall, I’ve been with you for every second of every minute. I knew after we met Zayn, it wasn’t protecting you because I-want-us-to-finish-this-whole-thing-alive anymore. It’s because I want to keep you safe, and I know that we’re still continuing this adventure of ours because _you_ would want it. You’d want to die and …-“ Harry sucks in a deep breath, “And to.. to sacrifice yourself for the whole world and that would make you happy.”

Louis doesn’t answer, because he can’t compete against Harry anymore. He shudders because it got cold somehow.

“I like you, Louis.” Harry wants to gulp it back down, and Louis’ hands fall to his sides at his words, “I really, really, like you and I can’t accept the fact that you’re too humble to give yourself up to this fucked up world. Call me selfish, self-centered, but I don’t _ever_ want to lose you because I’ve already lost so much in this world, and I can’t lose you.”

“But …” Louis shakes his head, feeling like slapping himself in the face, “This is what I want, Harry.”

“That’s why I’m…” Harry releases a harsh breath, morphing in a sob all too quickly, “That’s why I want to let you go, because I can’t get even more attached if we continue this.”

“Don’t.” Louis takes a step forward but the distance is still too much, creating the tension between them, “Please. I want us to continue this; I want to be with you.”

Louis finally strides towards the man, reaching for him but it’s Harry who takes a step back this time, “You’re not going to do this to me! Don’t make me fall for you and disappear! I want you to go with Gemma because I want you to do what you want but I can’t stay and watch.”

“Please.” Louis whispers, swallows the large lump on his throat. He forcefully pushes the tears back, _“Please.”_

Harry’s chest is heaving up and down with the force of his breath, heavy and uncalm. His fists are clenched by his sides. Louis hesitantly lifts a hand up to reach for Harry, and the latter sobs out, “Fuck, Louis.” before pulling Louis to him by the arm that’s stretched out.

“I don’t want you to go.” Louis presses his face to Harry’s broad chest, “Stay with me.”

Harry doesn’t answer at all, but both arms are wrapped around Louis and keeping them close and warm and that’s enough for Louis. Although when he lifts his head up, he sees Charlie charging for him. They separate as Charlie suddenly shoves Harry backwards with Louis stumbling back, eyes wide, “Charlie, what-“

Charlie grips Harry by the collar and pins him against the metal railing, “You have no right to send your sister off miles away from here when all of us knows it’s extremely fucking dangerous out there.”

“Charlie!” Gemma cuts off, pulling her husband from Harry.

“If anything…” Charlie points an accusing finger towards Harry, “If _anything_ happens to her, I’ll find you and-“

“Charlie.” Gemma firmly says, and Charlie scoffs at her before leaving.

“He’s that mad, huh?” Harry shakes his head at the floor, “Forget it.”

“We already talked about it, and it’s my final decision to help you-“

“Don’t bother.” It’s extremely risky, Harry knows that, and he’ll be in too much shit for doing this, but he does anyway, “Stay here, stay safe and… I’ll go.”

Louis stares up at Harry with adoration, eyes wide and bright and lips slightly parted. Harry purses his lips, “We’d need a horse.”

//

“You’ll always have a place here, alright?”

“I know, Gem.”

“Be careful, and keep each other safe.”

“Will do.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t watch the man double over and die; he grabs a wire from the inside and kicks the glass off so he can tie it to one of the metal bars that make up the balcony. He slides down and drops to his feet. He clambers towards Harry, who is lying and struggling to pull himself up.
> 
> Louis’ eyes slowly widen as he sees a rebar poking out from Harry’s lower abdomen. Louis gasps, and he crouches down and grabs Harry’s hand tightly, “Harry- fuck, Haz, tell me what to do, please, just-“
> 
> There’s blood pooling from under Harry, and as well as his clothes, and it makes Louis splutter a bit.

**FALL**

**“Oh… well, when I was a kid I used to want to be a … a singer.” –Joel**

 

“Gemma told me something about some building.” Louis says, his hands fisting at the bottom of Harry’s shirt to keep him steady on the horse. It hurts on the arse, but saddles aren’t present back at Gemma’s.

“I know.” Harry says, kicking at the horse’s mane to make him go faster. Gemma gave him the particular one they met earlier, Callus. “Tell me if you find a building that has something like a giant mirror.”

“Okay.” Louis presses his forehead against Harry’s shoulder. The latter doesn’t brush him off, just tilts his head subtly to the side to brush his lips towards Louis’ temple softly.

“This university is really large.” Louis comments as Harry stops the horse by the entrance to have a look. It’s indeed large and it looks very old. Louis wonders how they work, how people normally study in here and if it’s similar to what their schools look now.

“Of course, yeah.” Harry shrugs, jostling Louis slightly, “Go Red Bulls.”

“Did you play football back then? Or any sports?”

“Is combat training counts as a sport?” Harry asks, making the horse go around a large trash bin before climbing up a short flight of staircase. On the wall, a banner with a red bull is pinned to it, although the paper is torn into different places.

Louis shrugs, “I think no, because everyone does it.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Harry hums, “I haven’t been in a university.”

“Even like .. in your free time when you were a kid?” Louis looks around. It’s obvious that fall has started already. The leaves have a red-brown color to them and most of them are falling to the ground. It’s beautiful, and it’s gotten quite chilly. Louis loves Autumn, but he somehow hates Winter because it’s double the struggle against the cold and survival.

“No.” Harry purses his lips, slowing the horse down, “I suppose I was quite a bit of a… closed-off kid, always stuck in my own mind and dreaming.”

“I used to play football.” Louis beams with a large grin, “My father taught me, and I would always play with the other kids around school. It was fun.”

“I saw people playing, yeah.” Harry wills himself to walk on memory lane, “I would look out the window and see kids running around and chasing a ball.”

Louis snorts, “Hey,” He hits Harry’s side playfully, “It’s more than just _‘running around and chasing a ball’_.”

“Basically, it is.”

“You have no childhood.”

“Where is anyone’s childhood?”

“Oh come on.” Louis pouts, brushing his puckered lips on Harry’s shoulder, “Stop being like that. We should really enjoy this time while we still have Callus.”

“I quite like this horse, too.” Harry hummed.

“Yeah.” Louis giggled, “I want to own him forever.”

“You can.” Harry gulped, “You can own him, just stay here and-“

“Oh honey.” Louis breathed out, soft and sweet. The gallops of the horses make them bounce a little and the wind pushes their hair backwards slightly.

 _“Honey.”_ Harry slows the horse down, just pausing slightly to search the buildings nearby, “Is that a thing for us now?”

“It just slipped out.” Louis hums as he tightens his grip around Harry before he pulls away slightly to look around for that mirror building.

Harry smiles, but it goes unnoticed by Louis. He continues to go around the building to find the central grounds. He’s completely lost, but if he managed to go around different towns with a dangerous group of people, he can find his way to where the Fireflies are.

Although, fuck, they’re so near now. Their last destination is that giant mirror building that Gemma told them about and if they find at least one proper Firefly in there, he’ll take Louis, or he’ll probably mistake them as bad people and shoot them.

The latter’s better.

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Harry asks, shifting a little bit because of the uncomfortable hardness of the horse’s vertebrae is pressing up his arse.

“Yes. Kind of.” Louis says proudly. His fists clenched Harry’s shirt tighter as the he makes the horse jump over this metal blocking that was as high as three feet tall with barbed wires over it. The horse is ballsy.

As the horse climbs over another staircase, it shows this large area with this large square hedge plant, overgrown and withered, in the center surrounded with benches on each side. Harry stops near it, looking around and twisting to see. There are at least four buildings surrounding that central area and Louis figures it must be their dorms just like what they had in military schools.

As he looks around, he emits this soft, “Oh,” sound and taps Harry’s shoulder, extending his other arm to point at the shiny building, “Is it that one?”

Harry wants to say no, wants to say that they should look around more to boy off some more time. That’s what he needs. More time.

Instead he says, “Yeah.”

“Oh, good!” Louis grins, and Harry doesn’t smile back as he works the horse towards this building crashed through. They duck down to fit themselves above the tall height on the horse, “You’re not going to pick up shit? For your melees and all that?” Louis teases as Harry just passed by the free stuff on the floor.

Harry ignores him, and instead turns left into a corner to a short hallway. At the end, it had a metal gate, closed but not locked. As they get near, Harry mounts the horse wordlessly and approaches the gate, grabbing one of the doors and pushing it to open. Callus suddenly gives a neigh, spooking itself. Harry stands up in surprise, his hands held out, “Woah, woah, what is it?”

“Infected?” Louis asks, ready to dismount the horse, but Harry stops him. He frowns, “I want to help you.”

“Stay with the horse. I don’t want him running off.” Harry says with finality as he enters another large room. He closes the gate firmly and checks twice to make sure it’s firmly shut.

Before he can go, Louis whispers from the other side of the gate, “Be careful.” Harry looks back at him at response. Harry prepares his bow and arrow, reloading it as he keeps his footsteps light but firm. He makes his way upstairs, plastering himself at the wall as he reaches the last top steps. Conveniently, there’s a desk right beside the staircase, and if you jump over it, you’ll surely be seen and die.

So Harry ducks behind it, crouching down as low as he can as he peeks at the top of the long wooden desk. In that one room, Harry counts six infected over all. Two of them are walking around, their back broken and either too arched or too hunched. The others stand into one position, swaying and twitching.

One suddenly appears at the end of the hall, making groaning sounds. It’s very risky, but Harry aims his arrow and shoots. It emits a sound, but it isn’t that loud to attract the others. Harry gets on the side of the desk, still ducking down and gripping his bow for life. There is eighty percent chance that he will be seen as soon as he tries to pass through the doorway, but he has no other choice. He needs to kill them in order for him and Louis and that horse to get through.

He does it. He does it in two seconds and no infected sees him. He stays crouched beside the doorway, because the windows are still open. His knees will pretty much hurt from bending too much.

He thinks quickly as to how he’s going to do this. But he’ll stick to his bow and arrow. Speaking of, he crawls the dead infected that’s near him and grabs his arrow once again, all blood covered and on the verge of breaking. Harry slowly backed away from the doorway and onto the second window. He peeked out from it, jumping out of his skins to see this infected standing not a meter away from him, her back towards the man. He nails her quietly, before he shoots the one next to it. At one point, he misses, and the infected makes this indescribable sound loud and starts to thrash around. Harry kills him with the second arrow.

Not for long, all of them are lying dead, twitching and lying helplessly. Harry approaches each of them to retrieve his arrow, and he curses when one breaks in half. He roams around the building more to check for more zombies. He almost fucking jumps in victory as he sees an axe sitting by this axe, abandoned and bloody. He picks it up and ties his melee bat on his bag.

He’s about to leave the floor when he spots a generator in the corner. He walks to it and pumps it to life, because when he leaves it off, there’s a chance that there will be something needed to be on with electricity and he’s not coming back here.

When he finds safety and silence, he jogs back down to meet Louis and the horse. He pulls the gate apart again, and Louis sighs in relief, “God, I thought you were never coming back down.”

“I’m fine.” Harry pants, hugging Louis back for a slight moment before letting go, “Come on. We should go. There’s probably more outside.”

Louis walks the horse to the powered gate on the other side of the room leading to outside. Harry carefully opens this control panel on the wall before the gate rolls up. When the three of them are outside, Harry grabs onto the horse’s reins, “Scoot back.”

Louis shifts himself further down the horse’s back and leaning back to avoid getting smacked in the face by Harry’s feet. When Harry’s settled, Louis grabs on the bottom of his shirt with one hand grabbing onto Harry’s bag. Both of them had changed out of their clothes back to Gemma’s. Harry’s no longer wearing that disgusting flowy shirt, but something’s telling Louis that Harry stole more shirts similar to the style, because he’s wearing another one and this time’s it’s _yellow_ and plastered with big red flowers.

“You’re being quite tropical for autumn.” Louis comments.

“I had no other shirts.” Harry huffs, “How about you, though? Emo.”

“Hey.” Louis laughs, “Don’t act innocent. You’re the one who stole this for me.”

“Yeah, I got lost and found it in the room of the fifteen year old son of the dad I stole this shirt from.” Harry snorts, “You look like you’re fifteen.”

“Stop.” Louis giggles into the air, closing his eyes as the wind hits them gently.

They move around the university more, and Louis doesn’t know if Harry knows where they’re going or not. It’s nearing sunset and the sky looks so orange and beautiful. They go down some stairs and Harry makes the horse go faster, eventually going down to a stop as they spot a gate.

“Let’s try that gate.” Louis slips from the horse and onto his feet, stretching his legs before approaching the gate. He crouches down just as Harry approaches the panel on the wall, pushing this button. It doesn’t budge open.

Louis tries to lift the gate, and Harry helps him, but the gate is still intact. “The generator’s on the other side. It looks like someone meant to put it there.” Louis points, and all they need is to connect the yellow wire to the generator which is miles away and fuck.

“Fuck.” Harry exhales, “Alright.” Harry whips around to approach this door, blocked with chairs and table. He can easily push aside some of those and get in.

“Can’t we just …lift this shit?” Louis complains.

“No, we can’t. Just stay here for me and don’t run around.” Harry instructs, already pushing away this chair and out of the way. He brings it out to him and drops it to the grass. He does it to three more chairs before he can easily vault over the table and enter.

“Can I come?” Louis asks hopefully, “It makes me worry that you’re in there doing all the work and I’m just here watching the horse. It makes me feel bad… and I don’t want you getting hurt. What if you’re in there all alone and—“

Harry looks back, “It’ll make me feel worse if something bad happens to you. Now make sure the horse doesn’t get eaten alive, and _don’t_ follow me.”

Louis sighs, exasperated, “Okay, okay.”

Harry feels bad, but he needs to keep Louis safe. They’ve already searched practically the whole campus and they’ve seen no signs of the infected outside, and who knows what’s inside.

“Watch yourself.”

“You, too.”

Harry doesn’t look back as he walks himself deeper into the dorms. As he walks in further inside, he stops by a long hall, and at the end is the all too familiar heavy fog at the end. He sighed and grabbed his gas mask, strapping it on to his face. As the smoke engulfed him, he almost gave up, but he kept on walking, his footsteps quiet.

It was hard to see in the thick and dirty smoke, and he was basically stumbling around, but when he saw movement on the very far corner of the next room, he instantly crouched down and hid beside a bed that was thrown over onto its side. He grabbed his shotgun, reloading it as he eyed the creature. But he decided, fuck it. He was going to use stealth.

But he kept the shotgun in his hands just in case.

He rose to his feet for speed but his upper half was bent down. He was slow with his steps to avoid stepping on unknown things and emitting noise. He had no idea how many infected are inside, so noise is the number one thing he should avoid.

Ducking to the other room where one zombie stood, swaying side to side, he hid behind a bookshelf, and even had the nerve to loot some things he could use. His bag was running low, so he needed to get back to his collective habits.

It’s a large building, because it included the dorms, so there’s a lot of rooms to enter into and for Harry to use a hole to get through the other. Some hallways are either barricaded or packed with zombies, but other than that, he would just crouch down the hallway.

It takes him at least forty minutes to get around the dorm building. He had escaped the spores from where he had jumped into a balcony and into the fresh air, revealing another open area with the gate on the left. He gets around the other side of the railing before he jumps down into a van underneath. He takes off his mask and straps it back to his belt, heaving a large sigh.

“Hey-“ Louis starts to call out but Harry shushes him as he gets closer, “Let’s not be loud just yet. I wasn’t exactly diligent enough to kill what’s inside, so shh.”

“Oh.” Louis says, nodding, “Of course, yeah.”

Harry pulls the generator towards the panel on the wall, picking up the yellow wire and plugging it to the generator. He pumps it three times before the motor starts. He steps back, “Alright, give it a try.”

Louis pushes on the button and the gate slides up again. Louis sighs loudly, relieved as he leads the horse towards Harry, “Were they many inside?”

“Quite, students and stuff.” Harry says, mounting the horse. He offers a hand to Louis, “Come on.” Louis accepts the hand and lifts himself up to mount the horse with Harry’s help.

They arrive at the back of the university where tents are lined up. “Are these like …” Louis says, looking back as Harry simply passed by them, “Like medical help or something?”

“I think so.” Harry says. He doesn’t bother stopping by to collect some free stuff because there’s still danger waiting for them to trigger it not a mile away so they need to be as quick as possible.

//

“So, this is it?” Louis asks, jumping from the horse to approach another metal gate. He slips a little but regains his balance. The entrance is kind of a slope. Harry steadies him before grabbing onto the gate, giving it some firm tugs to try and open it before announcing, “It’s rusted shut. We need to find another way.”

“We can just get over it.”

“Alright, let me find something.”

“No, no, I’ll do it.” Before Harry can protest even more, Louis is already walking up the slope in search of something to climb on. He sighs at the stubborn man, but he perks up as Louis returns with a large dumpster.

Harry hurries out, seeing the lad’s lack of control on the thing, “Louis, careful-“

Louis loses his grip and the dumpster slides down the slope and crashes through the gate. Harry is already backing away the moment Louis returned, “Jesus, Lou!”

“Sorry!” Louis says apologetically, holding his hands up, “But it’s less work, right?”

Harry sees Louis’ dopey smile, so he shakes his head and grabs the horse’s reins to lead the horse in. Louis suddenly taps his shoulder, “How about up there?”

Harry follows Louis’ finger to see a hole in the wall of the building’s upper floor. Harry nods, “Yeah, that looks like the way in.”

This time, Harry pulls the dumpster against a truck and climbs up. He bends down again to offer his hand to Louis but the man pouts and brushes him off, lifting himself up by himself, “I can handle myself!”

“…” Harry stares at him, “Suit yourself.” And then he resumes climbing over the truck and onto the roof, balancing himself.

On the roof are solar panels lined up next to each other, and Harry pays a minute to look around them. When he’s unsatisfied, Louis asks him, looking down at the horse, “Won’t he run off?”

“Right.” Harry sighs, “You can go back down to tie him by the gate while I go check out what’s inside.”

“Okay.” Louis says as he jumps back down to the ground once again. He steadies himself before approaching the horse, grabbing it’s reins and leading him to the gate. Harry stops watching the lad so he can go climb through the hole Louis pointed at earlier. It’s a bit difficult because it’s quite high, so Harry jumps up and latches his fingers onto the edge. He lifts himself up and he huffs as he finally gets to stand up on his feet.

Inside is even messier. Desks are pushed to the walls and papers are all over. It scares Harry a bit because they aren’t sure if there are really Fireflies here. He searches the drawers and he sighs in relief every time he sees bullets suitable for his guns. He’s running low on them, and there’s got to be more supplies here. He doesn’t leave the room yet, and when he starts to get impatient, Louis calls for him.

He nears the edge where he sees Louis standing below. He raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Can’t quite reach.”

Harry scoffs, mocking as he bends down to offer his hand to Louis, _“I can handle myself!”_

When both of them are inside, Louis smacks Harry’s gut, “Douchebag.”

Harry pushes him forwards gently, “Twink.”

“What?” Louis gasps.

Harry just cackles and goes off into another room while Louis sulks in the other. Harry enters what looked like a conference room with a whiteboard in the front of the room and a large circular table in the middle. Swivel chairs are scattered. Harry kicks one and it wheels to the corner as he searches the drawers and shelves. All he gets are some files and papers.

He meets Louis outside to the balcony, where the smaller man starts calling out loudly, “Hello?! Cure for mankind over here! Anyone?!” His voice echoes, following him as he jogs to the next double doors.

Harry sighs, “Let’s keep it down until we’re good here.”

As Harry follows him inside, he spots him scavenging a box, all crouched down. Harry walks over and grabs a clipboard on top of piles of boxes. The words confused him, so he just ignores it and puts it back down, “Just a bunch of medical stuff. The place seems empty, though. ‘S like they all packed up and left.”

A sudden noise occurs upstairs, and it startles both of them. Louis says quietly, “Maybe not all of them.”

“Stay close.” Harry reminds. He walks past Louis with his gun ready. He climbs up the stairs, his footsteps quick and soft. The third floor is empty, and Harry lowers his gun but doesn’t put it back in his holster. He finds a door and he swings it open. The room’s empty, too.

Louis walks straight in the hall as Harry inspects more of the rooms, collecting some supplies he might need. He comes out and sees Louis waiting for him at the end of the hall. As he gets closer, Louis speaks, “No bodies. That’s … that’s good, right?”

“It’s only good if we find out where they went.” Harry sighs. It’s quite relieving, if it’s honest. Their journey will prolong, and maybe.. just maybe, Louis will change his mind.

From another doorway, another noise occurred and both of them whipped around. Harry crouches near a desk as he watches a filled box drop to the floor. Louis asks, “Infected?”

“No.” Harry says, standing up to his feet, “They’re not supposed to hide.”

They enter the doorway. Louis nears the windows, wiping off the dirt as he tries to look outside as Harry picks up x-rays lying on the table. It’s about the fungal infection, and he’s disgusted. He throws it away and when Louis picks it up to look at it, Harry snarls, “Don’t.” So the man drops it.

Harry turns to check out the door across the room, and he opens it. He jumps back as he sees a fucking _monkey,_ about three or four of them, raiding the room. As they see Harry, they all clamber away. Harry sighs in relief, “At least it’s not walkers.”

Louis rubs his forehead, “Let’s just keep looking.”

Harry follows, and he accidentally steps on a recorder. He pushes the button to play and he puts it near his ear. _Four palettes of lab equipment are packed up and ready to go. All we need to is to know what to do with you guys._ There’s a faint chatter of monkeys in the background. _They said the tainted batch need to be put down and- Hey easy..- Agh stop-_ There’s a sound of metal squeaking open and the man grunting. _Fucking hell. It bit me._

Harry puts down the recorder with a roll of his eyes, “Let’s just stay away from the monkeys.”

Louis, who is standing close and listening to the recorder, comments, “He didn’t say where they went.”

“I know.” Harry looks at him. Louis has a distressed look on his face, and Harry wants to comfort him. But it’s not the time for that, “Let’s just keep looking.”

They do, and Louis finds a Firefly pendant in one of the drawers. He sighs and throws it away, ignoring Harry who is busy staring and watching his every move. Harry approaches a door. He tries to swing it open but it gets stop. He can’t get his whole arm through the crack. He pushes at it, realizing that there’s a desk barricading it from the inside. He pushes at it more, until he fits himself through.

He freezes momentarily at the sight of a man in a desk, wearing the familiar green jacket of the Fireflies. Harry picks up the recorder, eyes closing as he presses play. _If you’re looking for the Fireflies, they all left._

Louis snorts, “No shit.”

Harry ignores him. _I’m dead. Will be soon. Got some more time to reflect._ Harry fast-forwards. _Fucking thing was a giant waste-_ He fast-forwards again. _Not gonna do this anymore-_ And again. Harry grunts, “Come on.”

_-looking for the others, they’ve all returned to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake. You’ll find them there, trying to save the fucking world. Good luck with that._

“Do you know where that is?”

“I know the city.” Harry says, running a hand through his hair.

Louis asks, “Is it far?”

“It’s not close. I mean, on horseback-“

Harry cuts himself off as they both see a light flashing from below. Louis perks up, “Fireflies.”

The light shines at them, through the window, and Harry’s quick to pull them both back down to the floor as someone shoots. The bullet makes a hole through the window. “Oh fuck.” Louis mutters, reaching for his makeshift holster for his gun and reloading it, “This isn’t good.”

“Let’s just go.” Harry ushers, still crouching down, “We know where they are.”

They get out of the room with them bent down. They return to the hallway they are in earlier. Harry grabs his axe, and he grabs his melee stick full of scissors and nails before he tosses them to Louis. Harry stands by the doorway, listening if he can hear some footsteps. Louis hides at the other side.

One appears with a bat, and Harry swings his axe and goes for the gut, cutting through effectively. The man falls face first, lifeless already. Harry goes to make sure and gives another land on his lower back. He goes back to his spot earlier, chest heaving.

Harry quickly goes through the doorway. But he’s forced to duck down behind a desk as two appears at the end of the hall and shoots. Louis quickly follows him, and he asks quietly, “Bandits?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He descends further into the room and switches to his gun. He peeks from the top of the desk. Louis fires one and the other, but the gunshot and the alerts of the others brought more into the room. Harry reaches for his bag for a Molotov. He lights it up with his box of matches in his pocket. As the cloth is burning, he aims at a good angle before throwing. He watches as the others scurry away but the gasoline spreads and it catches on their feet. Louis shoots them just for good measure. They hear yelps from the burning ones. Harry runs across the hall and vaults through a window and to another room where he was earlier. He brings back his axe as one enters the room. He swings it and it latches onto the man’s shoulder. Harry pulls it back and swings it again on the same spot. This time, it digs in deeper and Harry doesn’t flinch as blood flicks out as he pulls the blade back again. The man falls flat on his back as Harry kicks him back. The curly man bends down to grab his gun and his ammos before Louis finally joins him in the room.

They go through the rooms carefully, and if they have to, they kill whichever man they approach. Eventually, they reach the staircase they climbed through earlier. Harr’s the first one who slowly steps down the stairs, his gun already aiming. Louis’ behind him, watching his back for further enemies.

Harry stops as footsteps clamber up the steps, and when a man sees them, Harry fires and nails him in the chest. The man lies dead on the stairs. “Here, Lou. Come on.”

They run out to the balcony. Harry peeks out first before he sees no one. He runs towards the familiar door earlier. They can easily jump down, but god knows how many bandits are still inside. Harry kicks the door open, but a bandit springs out and pushes him. Harry’s back hits the glass railing of the balcony. Two hands grasp his throat tightly, and Harry fights it with one hand.

Louis gasps, aiming already, but a hand seizes him by the throat and another hand with a knife. His gun clambers to the ground as he fights it off. He grips the man’s wrist with force as he tries to move the direction of the knife.

On the other hand, Harry’s still pinned on the railing. He’s got one hand on the man’s wrist, his other hand on the man’s neck, and his throat is fighting to be open for air. Harry pulls his free hand back and hits the man’s cheek with a punch. The man relents, stepping back. Harry goes to hit him again but the man’s quicker, giving one punch to Harry’s jaw. They hear a crack, and both men falls backwards through the cracked glass.

 _“HARRY!”_ Louis watches in horror as Harry falls with the man, and he’s brought to anger. He reaches back with a hand to grab the man’s hair, pulling hard as the other one tries to turn the wrist the other way. He bends his knee up before he swings it back, his foot landing on the man’s thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. The man grunts and doubles over, and Louis turns around and impales the man with his own knife.

He doesn’t watch the man double over and die; he grabs a wire from the inside and kicks the glass off so he can tie it to one of the metal bars that make up the balcony. He slides down and drops to his feet. He clambers towards Harry, who is lying and struggling to pull himself up.

Louis’ eyes slowly widen as he sees a rebar poking out from Harry’s lower abdomen. Louis gasps, and he crouches down and grabs Harry’s hand tightly, “Harry- fuck, Haz, tell me what to do, please, just-“

There’s blood pooling from under Harry, and as well as his clothes, and it makes Louis splutter a bit. “Move.” Harry struggles to say, grabbing his gun from his holster.

“What?” Louis frowns, but he’s pushed to the ground.

The door suddenly swings open in front of them, and Harry tries his best to aim and shoot the two men with a blurry vision. The pain is unbearable, stinging and aching and too much. He drops back down after he shoots the first one and Louis approaches the other one with his melee weapon that Harry gave him earlier.

“Harry.” Louis breathlessly says, grabbing Harry’s gun and putting it on his holster. Harry grabs onto Louis’ hand with both of his, tight and relying. He can feel his heart beat thumping weakly through his ears, and his pain only spreads and he doesn’t even want to move.

But he’s not going to let himself die; not like this, “Pull me.”

“Okay, okay.” Louis nods, “Are you ready? Okay… shit- one, two three!” He pulls Harry up, and the latter yelps and scries out his pain through the process.

“Come on, Harry.” Louis tries to assist the man but Harry shakes him off.

Louis guides him out of the building. It’s only a few doors down, but with Harry falling and stumbling very often, it only prolonged the time. As they exit the building, Louis opens the door for Harry but the man weakens even further and falls down the steps of the entrance of the lab. Louis runs to him, kneeling beside him as he tugs on Harry’s arm, “Come on, Harry. Get up, get up. You have to- Harry!”

Harry stays limp and pliant on the ground, pale and weak.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is it so far? Thank you for the kudos and the comments! I'm really glad you guys are appreciating it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii I'm back :) I hope you guy enjoy this thing. 
> 
> WARNING: Attempts of Rape

**WINTER**

**“No, you see, I believe that everything happens for a reason… and I can prove it you.” –David**

“Wait here, Callus.” Louis slowly slides down the horse, shivering as droplets of snow drops from the sky and onto the ground. He grabs a bow and arrow, and pulls the string back with the weapon. He aims clearly at the rabbit before he releases. It shoots through the small animal’s neck, and Louis approaches it and picks it the arrow up with the rabbit latched onto it. He puts the arrow back behind him and ties the rabbit onto the horse’s reins. As he does so, he sees a slight movement on the corner of his eye. He whips to the side, seeing a deer nearby.

“Stay here.” Louis ties Callus to a tree, “You’ll just startle it.”

He slides down a snowy hill, careful and landing on his feet neatly. He readies an arrow as he scans the area, tracking the buck. He could see it running away, and he follows it with his footsteps. He misses the deer for a second, until he sees him running away again from behind a tree.

“Fuck, you’re fast.” Louis mutters under his breath.

Eventually, he sees himself on top of a pile of large rocks, and he crouches down. The deer is below, seemingly calm and oblivious. Louis pulls his arm back with the arrow, aiming with a clear shot. “Steady.” He whispers, and he lets go. He’s sure he hit something, but the buck spooks and runs away even further.

“Shit.” Louis climbs down from the pile carefully before he picks up his arrow as he gets closer. He follows its footsteps which are clear on the ice, but it gradually mixes with spots of blood as he follows it. He frowns in confusion but he follows it nonetheless. He’s going to get that deer.

A few more seconds of following, he spots an old mining camp nearby. He hesitates greatly, but he chooses to move on. As he gets out, he sighs in relief as he sees the buck. It’s lying dead and bloody on the snow with an arrow on its stomach and on its hind leg. He examines it, until he hears a noise from somewhere behind him.

He whips around, readying his arrow, “Who’s there?” No one answers, “Come out!”

He sees two men; a middle-aged one and another one younger than Louis, possibly a teenager, come out from behind a tree. “Hello…” The older one speaks, “We just want to talk.”

“Any sudden moves, I’ll put one between your eyes.” Louis’ quick to threaten. It’s not an empty threat, he’ll do it. Ever since he’s all alone for hunting and probably all of the tasks, he found himself braver and more independent.

“My name’s David.” The older one responds before he gestures to his companion, “He’s a friend, James. We belong to a bigger group –women, children, and we’re all very hungry.”

“I am, too.” Louis shoots back, switching his aim back and forth between the two.

“Well, maybe we could ah-“ The man looks at his ‘friend’, “We could trade for some of that meat there? What do you need? Weapon, ammo, uh… clothes-“

“Medicine!” Louis quickly supplies. He notices his tone, and he calms himself, “Just antibiotics.”

“We have some.” This David nods, “Back at the camp. You’re welcome to follow us-“

“I’m not following you anywhere.” Louis demands, gaze still hard, “Buddy boy can go get it. If he comes back with what I need, the deer is _all_ yours. If anyone else shows up-“

“You put one right between my eyes.”

“That’s right.”

“Okay.” David sighs, and he looks at his friend, “Two penicillin and a syringe. Make it fast.”

James hesitates, only taking a step back, and he looks at Louis fearfully as the latter aims at him. David urges, “Go on.”

The teenage boy leaves wordlessly, shaking as he nods before he runs off to get what Louis really needs. Louis’ arm is beginning to ache from the strain, but he doesn’t pull it back as he aims the arrow at David again. Louis examines him. The man is quite thin, and he’s tall. His hair has little hints of white and he’s wearing a dirty jean jacket to prevent him from the cold. Louis’ wearing a jacket, too, but he’s still fucking freezing.

“I’ll take that rifle.” Louis speaks.

David nods, “Of… Of course.” And he slides the large weapon on the snow and towards Louis. The latter says, “Back up,” and he swaps out his bow back to grab his rifle. He aims again, holding the stranger at gun point.

“You ah…” David begins, “Mind if we can warm ourselves up? He’s probably going to be a while.”

Louis doesn’t answer for a few seconds and he’s hesitating to say yes because he doesn’t trust this man and at the same time, he’s dying from the cold, too. Louis swallows, “Bring the buck with us.”

David nods, and as he approaches the deer and grabs onto his large antlers, Louis’ still aiming at him. David drags the dead animal inside with slight difficulty because of the weight.

//

“What’s your name?” David asks as he crouches near the fire he made with some small pieces of wood. Louis is on one knee, weapon lowered down, but he’s at a safe distance and at the same time he can feel the warmth of the fire.

Louis glares, “Why?”

“Look, I know it’s not easy to…” David shrugs, “.. trust a couple of strangers.” He chuckles, and air is visibly escaping his mouth, “Whoever’s hurt, you clearly care about them.”

Louis’ head bows at the indirect mention, and David continues, “I’m sure it’s gonna be just fine.”

Louis nods, “We’ll see.”

They hear grunting and shrieking from outside, and both of them are alert. Louis stands up just as an infected comes barging in through the doorway, looking hungry and desperate. Louis fires once and it drops to the ground. David nears it and fires it one more time with another gun.

“You had another gun?’ Louis asks in disbelief.

The old man nears the door, “Sorry.”

Louis aims towards the windows that are barely barricaded by the nailed wood and at the very much open doorway. David speaks, “I’d really like to have my rifle back-“

“No.” Louis says, and he watches David frowns, “You have your pistol.”

The man ignores him as he pulls a ripped curtain from one of the window before laying it over the deer, “Let’s hope they don’t find him. Over the windows.”

Louis slams the door closed and he steps away from it as he focuses on the windows, seeing if there are incoming zombies. There is, and he peeks out to aim. He shoots and he sees the brain and flesh splatter out. At one time, Louis’ busy trying to finish one while another one, a woman, bangs on the planks blocking the window. He shoots it twice before it lays limp against the window, her two arms through the crack that the wood have made.

There are no more in Louis’ side, so he whips around to help out David. One has struggled to get through a window that has no barricade, so Louis shoots it. Another comes in, and another. Louis kills it in one shot while David struggles with the other one.

As the place falls quiet, David grunts, “Help me with this.” He tries to moves a large cabinet through the two windows that are wide open. Louis helps him out, getting on the side to push, but as the windows are safely barricaded, one hand shoots up on the crack that is pitifully covered and grabs Louis. David grabs Louis’ collar to steady him before shooting the infected.

“Oh shit.” Louis steps away from the window and into the center of the room.

The infected keep coming, and both of them are struggling to keep up. The planks of wood that are nailed to the windows to cover them are slowly being shattered by the force of the zombies, and soon the windows are all wide open for the infected to slide through easily.

“We’re getting out of here!” David declares as he barges through a room. Louis follows him, and on the way up on a short flight of stairs, a window cracks open a two hands shoot up to grab Louis. The latter pays no mind to it and just follows David into a room.

“I’ll block them. Cover me.” David pushes a locker while Louis steps back to shoot anything that steps close enough. David pushes harder, and one infected gets pinned. Louis shoots it and David covers the doorway completely.

They stand back from the door as the infected bang on the metal locker. Louis takes a few seconds to search through the drawers and he sighs in relief as he snatches some more ammo. He has another gun on him, a pistol on his makeshift holster, but he needs to save bullets if he wants to save his life.

David kicks open through double doors and they swing open. Louis asks him, “Do you know where we’re going?”

“I’ve never set foot in this place.”

“Oh, great.”

The large room looks like some steam turbine, and Louis’ heart swells as he remembers Gemma’s place. But he pushes the thought at the back of his mind as David beckons, “Follow me.”

They maneuver their way around the turbines and up the stairway where David leads through an industrial catwalk. Louis follows him, staying close and observing their surroundings. The old man jumps over a barricade, and he gets through safely. Louis tries to get through, but as he lands on his feet, the catwalk breaks and Louis falls back to the ground floor.

Louis grunts, looking up at David as the man asks, “Kid, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Louis sits up. He’s about to get back on his feet when he hears more infected chase David. He stands up quickly and he stands behind a wall to get cover. He switches back to his bow for more silence and to save up ammo. He gets out from behind a wall and spots an infected like two meters away from him. He aims and shoots, and unfortunately, his arrow breaks in half because of the thick skull.

Louis gets up on the stairways and drops back down to the basement. He crouches down as he gets developed by dark, but as he moves further in, it turns brighter. He tries to hide, but as he walks across a wall to another, at the same time an infected sees him and thrashes around. Louis grabs his knife and swings it to the zombie’s temple.

There’s another one somewhere, but Louis quickly finds the ladder to find his way up. He jumps up and whips around, jumping as he sees another infected comes barreling towards him, but not a second later, a gun fires. And then David appears.

“There you are.” Louis pants.

“Come on. Door’s this way.” David runs through and they’re back to the turbines again. He points to a ladder, “There. That could work.”

“Boost me up, and I can lift you up.” Louis suggests, “It’s quicker that way.”

“Okay, sure.” David leans against the wall and bends a knee to put both palms in. Louis steps at them, and jumps up. David lifts him up. Louis struggles a bit but he manages to get on the catwalk again. He bends back down to offer a hand to David, who jumps and grabs onto Louis tightly.

As soon as both of them are up, David once again runs past Louis and the latter follows him. It’s full of adrenaline rush, and Louis doesn’t know when they’ll be safe and when the infected chasing them will run out. He just hopes that it’s soon so he can get the fucking medicine and get back to Harry as soon as possible.

David shuts the double doors and pulls out his belt to latch it tightly. They go to a room at the end of the hall, where the windows lead to the rooftop. Louis grabs some more arrows scattered around conveniently, and he gets his answers as he acknowledges the dead people lying around, “Looks like somebody tried to fight them off and lost.”

“Ah,” David winces, “I’ve been looking for those boys for days. Doesn’t matter. Grab their gear. I’m gonna look for an exit.”

There are some heavy, quick footsteps that are audible from the roof and Louis announces, “They’re on the roof!”

It’s a lot of shooting, and a lot of blood and a lot of death. Both him and David are going back and forth between the hallway and the room in the end. The infected are literally _everywhere._ Louis’ lucky to spot one Molotov that was left unused by David’s ‘boys’. They don’t know how many are there but both of them are getting tired and their limbs and ears are aching all over. Louis thinks, it’s much better than fighting off real people.

It’s only a few minutes that felt like hours when David speaks again, “Hey, I think we did it.”

“We killed all of them?” Louis asks, his breath coming out uneven.

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

Louis scoffs, “More like disbelief.”

Louis finds David standing on the hallway and peeking to the outside, the wind howling in. “Listen.” David begins, “No infected.”

“Good.” Louis nods and he feels so relieved. Maybe the James kid finally returns with the things he need.

“Alright.” The man sighs, “Let’s check out that buck of ours.”

//

When they step foot back at their camp where their fire is still alive and the buck still lying hidden, Louis’ still careful and hesitant towards the man. David nears the fire to adjust some wood over it so it keeps on burning, “I say we handled ourselves pretty nice back there.”

“We got lucky.” Louis holds his hands out to the fire for warmth.

“Lucky?” David chuckles as if he doesn’t believe it, “There’s no such thing as luck. You see, I believe that everything happens for a reason.”

“Sure.”

“I do, and I can prove it to you. Listen.” David rubs under his nose, “A few days back, I sent a few men to ah… a nearby town to look for food. Only a few came back. They say the others have been… like… slaughtered by a crazy man. I asked for some details, they said uh… tattoos, broad and lean body… curly hair..”

Louis stares at David, and his heart is hammering hard against his chest. The old man is suddenly so threatening. And he looks back at Louis, “You see? Everything happens for a reason.”

Louis shoots back up on his feet as he aims David’s own rifle at the man, breath getting heavier. They can’t. They can’t know about Harry, or him either.

“Don’t get upset.” David says, still terrifyingly calm. He sighs, “James, lower the gun.”

At the mention of his name, Louis turns to the doorway where the teenage boy is holding up a pistol, aiming at Louis, “No way, David-“

David repeats firmly, “Lower the gun.”

James follow, seeming quite upset at David’s decisions. He tosses Louis the medicine and it lands on Louis’ feet. Louis feet his gun up as he bands down to grab it, pocketing it on his jacket. James speaks, “The others won’t be happy about this.”

“That’s none of your concern.”

Louis inches towards the door, snarling at James, “Move the fuck out of the way.”

“You can’t survive out there.” David pipes in, “Let me protect you.”

Louis feels disgusted, and he steps out of the door, “No thanks.”

Louis runs away from the camp, and he doesn’t even turn back. He has one hand cupped protectively on the pocket where the medicine is, and he runs twice as fast back to Callus. He unties Callus out of the tree and mounts him, and soon he’s getting out of the forest and away from the creepy camp.

He gets in the garage safely where he rolled down the gate and safely locking them in from the cold. Downstairs in the basement lays Harry in a small mattress Louis managed to snatch from the mall where they spent a few days inside a shop. He had no other choice, and the mall contained a lot of supplies for medicine. There, in that very shop, he stitched Harry up with his own bare hands with Harry struggling to keep awake for the both of them.

As Louis nears Harry, he examines the man. He’s immediately scared at the lack of movement from the man, until Harry gives a small puff of air, and Louis sagging in relief. He kneels his way next to Harry, showing him the medicine he got.

“Hi…” Louis says, shivering from the cold still lingering around, “Are you cold?”

He puts a gentle hand on Harry’s forehead and down into Harry’s neck. Harry subtly leans into the touch, his head lolling to the side. Louis steadies his head against the pillow again, “I only got us a little bit of food, but I got this.” He shows Harry the medicine. Although he knew that Harry isn’t going to open his eyes from being tired, he knows Harry’s grateful.

Louis lifts up Harry’s arm from his chest and that alone, Harry grunts in pain. Louis apologetically says, “I’m sorry.”

He moves Harry’s thick blanket down to his hips and lifts Harry’s shirt out of the way. Louis winces at the stitch in the lower part of his abdomen. Louis grabs the syringe and the medicine, sucking some into the syringe before putting down the small bottle. He faces Harry again, “Here we go.”

Harry weakly yelps at the sudden sting as Louis injects him the medicine and the man winces at the sound, apologizing under his breath. His voice is awfully hoarse. As soon as Louis’ done, he puts the syringe and the medicine away safely, “All done.” He covers Harry up all over again so he’s a large burrito all over again. A large, broken, hurt burrito.

Louis sidles down beside Harry and onto the cold floor. He puts one hand on Harry’s forehead again as Harry starts shivering in the cold. “You’re gonna make it.” Louis says, and he believes in it. Harry can make it because he’s strong and he’s determined.

He uses his bag as some sort of pillow and he scoots closer to Harry but not close enough to jostle him in his sleep. Louis stares at him before he puts a hand on Harry’s chest as some sort of hug. It keeps him sane.

He remembers how unstable he was when Harry had fainted in front of the lab. He grabbed at least three shirts from Harry’s bag and taped it over Harry’s brutal wound with several layers of duct tapes. After that, he tore off his belt and wrapped it around Harry’s torso and tied it over Harry’s wound. He then carried Harry over the horse and when Harry was draped over Callus’ mane with his front exposed to the air, Louis mounted the horse and made Harry lean on him. It was extremely difficult, but when they reached the mall, Louis locked Harry up inside a store for safety and found a pharmacy. He had thought there was something useful, but he found nothing at all. Although miracle came as he spotted an emergency helicopter which was on the verge of falling, barely and pitifully hanging from the balcony. Nonetheless, Louis climbed in and found a first aid kit. There, inside that dark and dirty shop, he stitched Harry up. They were thought back in medical school. It was quite fuzzy in Louis’ brain, but he did it.

Louis wakes up the next morning. He’d gotten plenty hours of sleep, but he still feels groggy and tired enough. But he hears something. He hears noise, and he shoots up immediately. He walks up to a window which was high up since they are in the basement, and he climbs over a desk, crouching down to see better. He peeks through, moving the cloth shielding them from being seen to the side just very _very_ slightly. He sees people; hunters with large guns, all scattered around the area.

“Fuck.” Louis breathes, jumping down from the desk.

He makes sure the windows are covered well before he kneels next to Harry, a hand on his forehead once again. Harry’s still freezing, and at the same time he’s sweating his skin out. Louis feels unimaginably bad, pitying the older man that he feels so much pain without even proper medication. “Harry, they tracked me.” His voice is soft, “I’m going to draw them away from here. I promise I’ll come back.”

Harry grunts, but that sound alone sends a few stabs scattering in his body, starting from his abdomen. Hell, it even hurts to _breath._ It shouldn’t be this way. They’ve been here for almost a month (Harry doesn’t like to fucking count the days and weeks that he’s absolutely useless) and he’s sure that his wound should have been healed by now, because he trusts Louis and he knew the smaller man had stitched him up good and found him enough medicine through the days. He wants to speak; wants to say _let’s just hide and hope for the best. Just as long as you’re in my range, all worried and probably going mental but safe. That’s all I need._

Except, Louis leans down and places a chaste kiss on Harry’s forehead and reddening nose. Harry tilts his head up, and Louis smiles weakly, “Always so cheeky.” But he doesn’t kiss Harry’s lips like Harry’s wanting him to do. Instead, he pulls the thick blanket over Harry better and checks the place once more before he goes over Harry’s bag, digging for some more bullets and at least, Harry’s pistol, because David’s rifle isn’t enough for more than a dozen hunters.

“May I borrow this?” Louis asks permission; Harry gives him a shiver.

So he takes Harry’s pistol with him with his bag containing so much ammos and gun powder. The rifle’s swung around his torso, his bow and arrow’s in his quiver which is also strapped to him and Harry’s pistol is on his holster. These are enough.

As Louis sneaks Callus out of the garage, he already sees hunters all around, and he ducks his head, and… well, Callus isn’t helping. He’s a large fucking animal. Nonetheless, Louis lowers the door quietly, so quietly. He wishes it has a lock on it, so he’s assured that no one will get curious and barge in with Harry still trying to maintain his breath in the basement.

Louis mounts the horse, making Callus walk quietly. He hears the hunters, “Are you even sure he’s here?”

Another answers, “Man, there are horse tracks down the streets. He’s here.”

Louis looks over to them, careful so he’s ready to run when they send a single glance. But… but someone ruins his plan, because Louis’ grabbed on the arm and on the back. The hunter tries to pull him off the horse as he yells out, “Hey, I got him!”

The others are alert, and Louis grabs his forgotten knife from his pocket and swings it downwards to the hunters throat, twice and powerful before Louis uses one foot to kick him off balance so he falls back on the snow. The others are shooting already, and Louis kicks at Callus to make run as fast as he could get.

“Shoot him!”

“But David said-“

“Fuck him! Shoot him!”

Louis rides through the deserted resort, miraculously missing the gunshots. It must be because of the speed, or the fact that their aiming skills are bad as hell. The others attempt to block him, but they turn into cowards as Louis doesn’t stop or even slow down, because he _will_ run over them like precious pebbles if they even plan on letting their lives be trampled by a horse.

“Shoot the horse!”

No, no, bloody fucking _no._ Callus is fucking special; their source of fast transportation and somewhat a companion. Louis rants in his head, going as fast as he could because Callus is a target now. Louis jumps over a log but at the same time he does, one hunter’s bullet goes through Callus’ body. Both the horse and Louis tumble down a bank, hiding them effectively from the shots.

Louis groans but he grabs his rifle –David’s, but he’s territorial so what he gets his hands on are his— before he reloads it quickly, using the large boulders as a shield as Callus’ body laid dead and bloody on the snow. Louis will miss him.

Two hunters approach, and with rage, Louis quickly shoots the first one. The second’s quick to hide behind the large rocks and Louis waits patiently before the man got curious and peeks his head. Louis nails him straight at the forehead. Louis carefully runs down the hill and hides inside a nearby cabin. He finds some helpful stuff (he thinks Harry’s rubbing off on him) and fills his already heavy bag.

Louis hides there and the hunters are quick enough to follow. They are outside, talking and scanning the area. Louis nears a large open window and perks his ears up, “Are we really killing him?” One hunter asks, unsure and he really sounds like an underling just by his tone, “David said to get him there alive.”

_Fuck,_ Louis curses in his head, _That old man. I knew I should have just ran when the buck got too far. Now I’m in a lot of trouble._

“He doesn’t get to say that. Did you even know how much men we lost in that university?”

“Oh shit. I didn’t know that was him. Screw David. He’s a fucking lunatic.”

“I just want to finish up and go home. My balls are about to fall off from the cold.”

Louis peeks out the window –he’s brave enough- to count the men that are patrolling near his little hiding place. There are about four, and they’re teamed up in two’s. Cowards.

So Louis waits, and he refuses to use any gun because sure, he’s brave. But he’s still pretty much alone and the hunters are ruthless and too many. Louis poises his arrow and bow, pointing at the doorway. It’s only one minute before his first victim came. He shoots the arrow, and it lands on the hunter’s back where his kidney is supposed to be. He lands on the floor sideways, the arrow sticking out.

Louis counts a few seconds before he crawls quickly to the other side of the doorway to grab his arrow again, and another free one on the table. He also grabs the hunter’s abandoned shotgun and his bullets. He won’t need it much right now.

Louis hides under a window will, and he feels so open and seen to the world. There are windows all over the livingroom and one wide open doorway and if one isn’t blind, he’d surely be seen. Nonetheless, he waits again, and the second comes in and as well as Louis’ arrow.

This time, though, Louis doesn’t wait anymore. He peeks from the window and he pulls back his arrow. He aims at the patrolling hunter right outside the porch of the cabin. He scores, and the man lies dead with a arrow on the middle of his chest, gurgling out blood. The last one came to him, shouting, “Man down! Man do-“ until Louis runs out of patience and kills him with another arrow, too.

After he retrieves his arrows and a new set of bullets, he gets out of the cabin and further into the resort. The next set of hunters though, he’s not very quiet. He uses his new shotgun and kills the rest loitering around while he’s hidden behind a stone ledge very much away and unseen. He collects their bullets (and ration cards, if any) before he sees a broken cliff side path.

“Nature track.” Louis reads under his shivering breath, “That should get me out of here.”

He pushes himself against the railing as he steps on the broken wooden path and down below is the frozen ocean. He manages to get to the other side (he’s far too relieved that he slipped a step)(he catches himself quite pitifully) and he fits and crawls through two culverts. Further down the large, yet seemingly creepy and eerie resort is a lot more searchers. And they’re more now. Louis just wants to stealth past them, because he’s tired of carrying kilograms of guns behind his back and another one in his arms. But with stealth, he’s really not sure if he can be safer afterwards.

He kills the searchers, and fuck, tired is an understatement of what he’s feeling. His limbs are practically limp and fucking jelly and his spine is sure to crack a vertebra or two. He pushes at the back of his head before he jumps up a barricade that’s blocking the entrance of a lodge. The roof is broken, and he jumps in through the hole and lands gracefully on his feet.

It’s kind of a large restaurant, and the windows are covered and it’s making Louis feel safe. Two hunters track him inside, and Louis easily shoots them and he’s surprised because he’s surely more fatigued than he thought. He finds his exit, which is ironically an entrance. He tries to find his breath as he tries to push open the double doors. It’s barricaded outside, and he feels victorious as the crate tumbles down the steps and the doors open.

Except.

His victories are snatched back into oblivion as he’s grabbed with them. A strong arm is around his neck, and he grabs his knife and he tries to swing it back to whomever who’s attacking him. He feels the last of his breath fade slowly and slowly and it feels like their transferring to David’s strength, because his grip feels stronger in every second that pass.

Louis feels his head swim, and his eyes are getting droopy. He can’t get air, and he falls unconscious.

//

His head is still throbbing, and he sees white. All of a sudden, it slowly, _slowly_ spirals into reality. He’s in a cell, a dirty, small cell. He blinks his eyes a couple more times before he sits up, leans against the wall. Right outside, there’s a hunter with his back towards Louis, and… and-

Louis watches in horror, his blood going cold and frightened as the hunter lifts a large cleaver –which threateningly makes a flash of light as the blade makes a reflection of the equally threatening swaying bulb— and brings it down in a slam and cuts off a whole forearm of a corpse –a real dead body—. Louis gulps and he presses his back further into the wall. On the floor, right there on the fucking concrete is limbs –two legs and a new arm— is laying there while the whole body of the dead _woman_ is lying naked and _decapitated_ and torn apart on the table.

Cannibals.

Louis gasps and he’s suddenly alert and at the same time terrified as the feel of gore and disgust bubbling up in his throat. At the small sound, the hunter freezes and turns around. Louis looks up at those bitter eyes. As the man sends him a smirk, Louis rises to his feet and shakes the entrance of the cell, trying to magically break himself free and fight off the evil.

The devil himself, David, enters the room after the hunter stalks off. He’s carrying a plate filled with food –meat, and it seems so mouth-watering, only if he hasn’t seen where _their_ come from— and a bottle of water, “How are you feeling?”

Louis glares at him, his chest heaving after his several attempts. David leans down to place the tray on the floor before sliding it under the crack the entrance has made, “You should eat.” His tone still holds something menacing, and it’s insanely creepy.

_Nasty,_ Louis gags inside his head, _Disgustingly filthy and fucking ruthless,_ “What is it?”

“It’s deer.” David informs, and Louis’ brought back to that unfortunate, badluck-bringing buck earlier.

“With some human _fingers_ on the side?” Louis snarls, “Or perhaps… perhaps some _blood_ acting as the sauce?”

“No, no, I promise.” _Fuck your promises, and fuck your twisted, sick mind and way of living,_ “It’s just deer meat.”

“You are an animal.” Louis means this, but his stomach garbles like a caveman at the thought of _food, yes food._ But no, Louis is not giving in. But Louis drops to the floor and on his knees. He’s about to gobble down on the food, with only hands, but he stops halfway and reaches for the water bottle instead. There, he tolerates his hunger and feeds his thirst first. He drinks it all in one go, and he crumples the piece of plastic in his hands and throws it at David, who only turns his head to the side when the bottle hits him pitifully on the chest.

“That’s quite a judgment.” David kneels down as well, “Considering you and your partner killed how many of my men?”

Louis shakes his head, “We had no choice.” And his mind worries again, because Harry’s still alone and injured and _broken_ and there are so many hunters searching for him.

“You guys kill to survive.” David states, “And so do we and we take care of our own. By any means necessary.”

“So now what?” Louis asks him, and he’s brave because he can’t back down. He has strength, and he’s managed for quite a long time without Harry assisting him, “Are you gonna chop me into tiny pieces?”

David stares at him, eyes blank, “I’d rather not. What’s your name?”

Louis looks up at him, a subtle flash of disbelief crossing him before he shoves the tray out of his cell. The plate of food _–whatever the hell it is—_ scatters onto David’s feet. Louis stands back up on two feet and rests two hands on the bars, chest heaving in breath.

“Perhaps it’s your turn.” David pushes the tray aside and stands up straight, “It’s the only way I can convince the others.”

Louis scowls, “Of what?”

“That you can come around.” David speaks, “That you have a heart… you’re loyal…” Louis is intimidated, and his senses heighten up as David suddenly puts a hand right on his, rubbing lightly, “And you’re special.”

Louis pauses to look at their hands, _disgustingly twisted and nauseating,_ and he doesn’t think when he shoots a hand through the spaces of the bars and hits David right on the jaw. David stumbles back, and Louis falls to his knees and reaches as far as he can to try and snatch the keys that are teasingly dangling on the strap of David’s belt. David groans at the pain, swaying back and forth until he realizes Louis’ intentions. Hands surround Louis’ arm, and Louis’ being pulled back, back, back to the metals of the bars and the side of his face and head is hitting and slamming painfully.

Five powerful hits and Louis drops to his side, grunting painfully as his face begins to redden in dull pain. He watches with a deep frown as David stays away from the cell and cup his poorly-shaped jaw.

Louis growls, “You are _sick,_ fucking vile.”

“You are making it very difficult for me to keep you alive.” David shoots back, pointing an accusing finger at Louis, “Stupid boy. What am I supposed to tell the others now?”

“Tell them a _stupid boy_ broke your fucking jaw.”

David nods, but it isn’t a gesture of actually accepting Louis’ generous _generous_ offer, “How did you put it? Hm? Tiny pieces?”

Louis’  blood gets cold, but he’s not afraid. He’s taking this shot, and he’s not going to let himself get killed. David scoffs and he speaks again, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

//

There are gunshots outside, and it’s loud and it’s disturbingly terrifying. Harry’s eyes snapped awake along with a sharp intake of cold oxygen. He could feel the dull pain of his wound and his stomach because there wasn’t enough food to fill it, and the large stitch near it.

Louis.

He whips his head to the side to scan the room and listens carefully for footsteps, just Louis’ footsteps. His breathing grows uneven when he doesn’t find his Louis. _Fuck,_ he panics, _where is he?_ He tries to call out but his throat is dry and he desperately needs water. Despite the pain already pushing through, Harry lifts himself up with a cry. He settles to one elbow and presses a gentle hand on his wound. The skin had raised slightly at the swell.

“Louis?” His throat scratches.

As he gets up on his feet, he drops down to all fours again, grunting in pain. He catches his breath, trying to get used to it before he stood up, leaning to the right where it feels more numb and heavier. He limps to his bag and zips it open, searching for his water bottle. He and Louis have been very careful about water these weeks because it’s Winter. Louis collected water from the river before Winter started and boiled it up so the dirt could dissolve or something. Harry drank up what’s left of it. He’s thirsty, thirsty thirsty and he regrets declining Louis’ offer of food and water for every single hour –just to make sure he’s hydrated and always has something in his stomach—. Harry puts his bag on, groaning at the weight of it. He grabs his shotgun and straps on his holster as well even though Louis took his pistol.

“Louis?!” He calls louder now as he climbs up the stairs, one hand one his incision and another on the railing.

No one answers, and Harry is filled again with terror and panic. Instead of calling out, he remains quiet –except for the grunts and cries of pain— as he goes up to the livingroom of the house and out of the cold, cold basement. It’s even colder now, and the weight of the guns doesn’t add up to Harry’s feeling. Peeking into one of the windows, Harry finds men –hunters— all around the resort. Shit, he has to hide now.

He gets out of the livingroom and finds the back door. He slips outside and –pathetically— uses the stairs –because he’s still weak that he can’t just vault through— before he gets to the side to peek out. It’s hard to see, because the snow is harsh and Harry’s just wearing a jacket and a flannel shirt, and another shirt inside with some jeans and shoes. His hands are bloody shaking.

Harry slips behind a car in the driveway. He scans the area and the men are almost invisible. All this bloody snow is a big disadvantage. Harry reaches back, hissing at the harsh pain from the tug of his stitches, before he switches to his shotgun. Harry stands on one bended knee, poising his large gun before he aims at one and shoots. He ducks back down after that.

“Move it! Don’t let him get you!” One shouts, and well, Harry shoots as soon as he’s done.

There‘s three left, and when Harry peeks back out, they’re running from their hiding spot and further inside a backyard. Harry follows them, and _motherfucker it hurts,_ before he slips behind a fence, because there’s two guys inside already. Harry shoots one, right at the head for more effective result, and the other one bolts away again.

Two more tries to strike Harry, hiding in the same hiding spot. Harry grabs his Molotov, and lights it carefully. It flies in the air as he throws it. The bottle lands on the snow, the gas breaking through the fire from the cloth lighting it up instantly. The two men cry out, landing on the ground and flailing their pathetic limbs. The warmth of the fire is fucking tempting, the flames beckoning Harry to come closer because _it’s cold in the snow and come closer, I’ll warm you up._

But Harry can’t stand there and enjoy the warmth coming from burning blood and flesh, that’s one of the reasons and second, he needs to find Louis. Fast. He knows Louis’ _capable_ and _‘strong enough’_ and surely through the months of them trying to survive, he’s picked up some combat skills and perfect aiming that he’s barely learned before they met, but… but he just needs Louis to be safe.

Harry steps out of the backyard and into the street, however, as he does so, he’s easily grabbed by one sneaky hunter from the back, a strong forearm against his neck and hands forcefully behind him. Harry cries out at the stretch, but thankfully, his incision doesn’t open.

Yet.

Because another one is popping out from one of the houses carrying a big ass knife. He steps closer, and no, _fucking hell no I’m not going to get bloody stabbed through **again,**_ and Harry kicks his foot up and nails the fucker right in the balls. The man bends over, dropping the knife, and Harry bends forward. He lifts back up with great force which causes the back of his head to collide with the forehead of the man holding him. Harry gets out of the grip before he shoves the man to the concrete wall, and some blood splatters out from the cut on his forehead, falling unconscious. The other with the busted nuts shakily tries to stand up but Harry kicks him in the face again, and the man lays unconscious as well.

Harry takes the men by their hair and drags them into the snow to lock them up inside a house.

//

The first hunter with the busted groin is tied up to a chair, facing away from the commotion happening behind him; Harry’s got the other one tied up at the arms and legs, too, sitting on the cold wooden floor and giving him several punches here and there. The man lays limp, but he’s still breathing.

Harry stands back up, a hand to his stitches before giving the man a warning glare, “You wait here.”

He goes to the other one, snatching up the map he got from them that’s on the table and as well as the same knife from earlier. Harry drags a chair in front of the man, who is positively already surrendering to death. Harry sits down, his knees thanking him, and he stares at the man in front of him, “Now…”

The man trembles.

“The man.” Harry says, “Is he alive?”

“What _boy?”_ The words are chattering, and it’s either from the cold or the fear, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry fills with rage, and he lifts his knife before slamming it down to the man’s kneecap, right on the bone with the blade all the way through, and the man doubles over, sobbing, “Fuck!”

“Focus, right here.” Harry slaps a hand on the man’s chin lightly, “Where is he?”

The man’s still sobbing, and Harry firmly says, “Tell me, or I’ll fucking rip your bone off your leg.”

“He’s alive.” The man nods desperately, still bending forward, “David took him in as… as his new toy.”

Harry nearly falters and stops functioning, his hand tightening around the knife’s handle. No, bloody hell, no. No one’s going to harm Louis, no one’s going to _touch_ him and lay a single fucking finger on him. He’ll kill them all.

Harry takes a deep breath before he nearly growls out, “Where?”

The man hesitates, three, four seconds and Harry’s twisting the blade clockwise. The man grunts again, a mixture of pain and well.. pain. “In the town.” The man struggles.

Harry pulls off the knife and grips the man’s jaw. Through the gritting teeth, Harry pushes the handle of the knife through before he grabs the map, raising it up until the man’s face, “Now, you’re gonna mark it on the map, and it better be the exact fucking spot your pal here points, too.”

The man leans forward, and he smudges his own blood at a particular area before he spits out the knife, “There, go ask him. Go on!”

Harry ignores the hunter and stands up, stepping around him. The man chants, “I’m not lying, I’m not lying—“ And Harry wraps his arm around him in a choke hold. Harry’s not being merciless because he’s angry and he’s so done of this world and he’s being nice _enough_ , because if he leaves them here and tied and locked up, they’d only torture themselves with the open wounds and dull pain.

Harry goes to the other one, and he looks up at Harry like he’s a demon and he pleads out, “Come on, man, he gave you what you needed.”

“That’s alright.” Harry picks grabs his melee weapon, nails and blades sticking out, “I believe him.” Harry swings back and hits the man on the temple.

//

“Wake up.”

Louis doesn’t know what happens, but he’s being torn away from his slumber and being dragged out from his cell. He’s snapped awake in an instant, and he slips his arms out from the man’s –James— hold before he hits James’ kneecaps. The lad is just a kid, a teenager, and Louis should take pity, really, but in this world, there’s not a word _‘mercy’_ and _‘pity’,_ even the good guys –what good guys?— still have to be merciless sometimes.

As James lands on his knees, Louis springs out from his cell, but he’s grabbed once again by another hunter, a larger and taller one. He grips Louis’ arms, keeping them pinned, and Louis kicks his legs back to try and nail him, but to no avail. As David appears inside, James took hold of Louis’ legs, trying to stop the flailing limbs.

“You brat.” David snarls as he pushes one hand to Louis’ neck, and before it’s even there, Louis pressed his chin to his neck so the hand goes to his mouth instead. Louis bites down, hard and he feels like his own teeth are falling off. The hand is fucking dirty, and he spits. David raises a hand and slaps him with the back of his hand.

David winces at pain and he swings the same fist back and hits Louis right in the gut. Louis doubles over in the grip of the two men, and then he’s being thrown over in the slaughter table with his arms and legs held down.

“I warned you.” David grits his teeth and grabs his cleaver and raises it up.

Louis gasps out, “I’m infected! I’m _infected!_ ” and he feels _different_ saying it because he hasn’t said it in months and it feels like a long time ago.

David scoffs but he lowers his cleaver just a bit, “Do you expect me to believe that?”

The two hunters are staring right back at David as Louis answers, “Yes, and so are you.”

“Right there.” Louis gestures down to his arm, “Go on, roll up my sleeve.”

David twists the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll play along,” and Louis closes his eyes tight as David slams it down. There’s no pain, and he still feels his head connected and his neck uncut. He opens his eyes back up to see the cleaver beside him head, its tip pierced through the wood of the table.

David rolls up Louis’ sleeve and he grows eerily quiet when he catches sight of the old wound. Louis almost wants to cackle loudly at his face if there aren’t two more hunters in the room and a cleaver only four inches away from him. Louis refrains himself from laughing, and makes a comment instead, “What’d you say before? _Everything happens for a reason_ , right?”

“He would’ve turned by now. It can’t be real.” _Oh, it is._

“Looks pretty fucking real to me.” James gulps. David lifts his hand that Louis bit. Louis has broken through the layers of skin.

With one hand free, Louis doesn’t miss a single beat as he grabs the cleaver and he swings it at the nameless hunter’s neck at the same his leg kicks up to hit James on the chin. Louis rolls off the table as David pulls out his pistol and fires at Louis, still unstable from the very sudden news. Louis manages to dodge David’s first shot, before he’s out of the room. Louis finds a switchblade by a cabinet and he grabs it quick before he vaults through an open window and into the blizzard.

“What the fuck is wrong with these people?” Louis asks himself as he maneuvers himself through the harsh snow. He has an arm to his forehead, attempting to shield himself from the snow.

He takes shelter in a storage room as soon as David fires again, shouting, “This is my town!”

Louis shuts and puts a chair under the doorknob. He moves around the storage room and eventually into the shop. The windows to the outside are shut and outside are David and a female hunter, seemingly talking. Louis only has a small knife, and he desperately wishes he can miraculously find his bag lying there. Although, he isn’t going to complain anymore, because even with a small knife, he killed a few more men with his bare hands.

He’s slowly deteriorating with the cold, his exposed hands very pale and numb and he’s far from his usual tan color. He jumps through a window and slides it closed. He’s inside a restaurant with barrels of torches scattered around. Louis figures this is where David’s group feasts on their own kind. Louis warms his hands for a while, listening to shouts and alarms from the outside.

Soon, Louis needs to leave and come back to Harry. Sure, he doesn’t know where he is and the road’s all slick and cold and unbearable, but Harry’s injured, cold and his situation is tons worse than Louis’. It’s a usual chase, and Louis’ experienced it a few times. It’s either with bandits, infected, and now cannibals along with hunters. It’s unbelievable.

Louis goes to the back door of the restaurant, but as he seeks out, there are three hunters on the same alley. Louis shuts the door again with his heart racing. He almost got seen. He can’t take three armed men at once. Instead, Louis tries the entrance. There isn’t any one out in the harsh cold, maybe they figured Louis’ smart enough not to roam the large streets and instead squeeze himself in the tiniest spaces.Louis keeps an arm on his forehead as he steps back out into the cold.

Except.

Louis is grabbed from behind, and the situation is very clear again. Before something else can press against his mouth to make him fall unconscious, Louis slams his head back and his head hurts from the sudden impact. Instead of moaning about it, Louis rolls away and behind one of the walls that separate the restaurant into four sections. Louis grips his knife tight as he peeks out.

David.

That fucker.

David shoots, and the bullet bounces off. This time, David speaks, “You’re easy to track. There’s nowhere to go.” Louis hears a clanking of keys in the distance, “You want out? You’d have to get these keys from me.”

“Fuck you…” Louis thinks, because no, he doesn’t need the keys. Perhaps, even if he did, he’s sure he’d kill David in a heartbeat.

Louis moves to the row of booths as soon as David moves, trying to sneak to Louis. The restaurant is quite dark, and it’s hard to spot David’s shadows. Hopefully, the cannibal’s having the same struggle. “I know you’re not infected.” David suddenly runs towards the spot where Louis is, and Louis’ breath hitches. He doesn’t bend down to avoid the bullets; he runs for his life to the other side of the restaurant.

However, as he ducks to safety, the fire starting to form at the entrance of the restaurant attracts his attention. “He’s fucking burning the place.”

“No one whose infected struggle to stay alive.” David continues, “I gotta admit. You had me back there. You kinda threw me off. Just a little bit.”

Louis goes up the short flight of stairs –it’s probably about four steps—, but as he sees David running towards it, he ducks back down, his breathing hard. David slows down to a walk, still holding his gun. However as Louis observed him further, he keeps his gun and reaches behind his back, switching to his machete. Somehow, it reminds Louis of Niall (that bloody blonde bastard.)

“Oh, hey.” David trails a finger on the blood-stained blade, “I’m sorry about your horse. However, I hope you know that we won’t waste any part of him.”

“Creepy piece of shit.” Louis goes up the stairs quietly, and David’s back is onto him. As soon as he’s close, Louis leaps onto his back and stabs him right on the shoulder countless of times. David shakes him off and Louis tumbles to the ground, hitting his head on the edge of a table. David waves side-to-side on his feet, and soon he’s falling to his knees, and onto unconsciousness.

//

“This is pointless. I can’t see a thing.” Harry raises an arm in front of his eyes as he walks in the snow, slightly bended forward. He’s outside roaming on the streets, and it’s unbelievably empty and cold. At the end of the streets are one of the guards. He grabs an arrow, hiding behind a mailbox. Harry shoots perfectly, and through the harsh whistle of the cold wind, he hears the hunter choke before sliding down on the steep stairs.

Harry takes refuge inside, grabbing some bullets from the dead man outside. He swings the door shut and turns on his flashlight. Inside is a room which has shelves of sorts of things inside like clothes. Harry scans the things, finding something _familiar_ so he can really verify that Louis’ in danger.

He’s about to sigh in relief, but he catches something in the corner of his eyes. The two pin buttons –a ying yang one and a black one with a red star inside it. – are just too familiar too ignore, “Lou…” Harry grabs Louis’ bag, his fist curling into the fabric.

He swings it to his front, and it adds onto the weight –it makes him look ridiculous, too— but it somehow protects his stitches to the cold. He goes through another room, and he jumps back as corpses hanging from the ceiling surprise him, “Jesus Christ.” They are naked, bloodied, and some lost eyes and some are torn open. It smells bloody fucking disgusting in the room, and Harry thankfully doesn’t rip his stomach out from gagging as he leaves the room quickly.

Harry gets to go outside once again, shielding his eyes from the sudden cold. He’s out into the street, and big flames catches his attention, “Lou.”

//

Louis awakens. He’s weak and his muscles and everything is aching. It also feels hot inside the room despite the blizzard going on outside. Louis rolls to his front, getting to his hands and knees. He grunts. From a few meters away, he finds the machete under another table. He whimpers quietly, but he rises to his feet to clamber for his only weapon.

He doesn’t notice David until he’s suddenly kicked in the stomach. Louis drops to the floor on his front from the sharp blow. He looks up to find the bastard and his hand holding onto his shoulder, “You know, it’s not easy to give up.”

Louis ignores the man, and he looks onward to see the knife. It’s not within reach yet, but he crawls towards it. David spares him a few seconds, “It’s not just your style, is it?” before Louis’ kicked in the stomach again; harder this time.

Louis coughs up, and he’s not able to process it when he’s suddenly straddled from behind and a cold breath on his ear, “You can try begging.”

Despite the disgust he’s feeling, Louis grits out, “Fuck you.”

He’s flipped onto his back, and a hand wraps itself around his throat and another one settles on his arm, cold fingers rubbing the skin, “You think you know me?”

Louis reaches an arm up, gasping as the oxygen is slowly disappearing out of his body, “You have no idea what I’m capable of.” David leans down, and Louis can feel his breath against his cheek as he turns his head away. David removes his hand from Louis’ arm and slides it down his waist. Louis wiggles, squirms the best as he can but it only results to David adding a bit more weight onto the smaller man.

Louis wraps a hand around David’s wrist to try and tug him away from his neck. Louis gasps harder like fish in a desert. His free one moves up subtly to try and reach the machete as he wiggles further up. His fingers reaches the handle and suddenly It’s grasped in his hand.

Louis doesn’t waste a beat as he slashes David. He had no target; just anything to kill the man. David cries out as he holds onto the side of his head, rolling off of Louis. The latter kneels to him and he brings the machete down to David’s face once, twice, thrice until all he sees is red. He doesn’t know how many times he’s done it, probably eight times, or a dozen, but he’s suddenly being tugged away.

//

Harry enters the restaurant from the back door, for the fire in the entrance is too unbearable to jump through. He keeps his head down, still careful, but he hears cries and whimpers from the other side. He runs to it, keeping the sounds in his ear shot. He stops at a corner to find Louis crouching down in front of a man, repeatedly slashing him with a machete, blood already leaking out of the dead man’s face and head.

Harry drops his and Louis’ bags before he’s rushing forwards and tugging Louis away. Louis drops the large knife and thrashes violently in Harry’s hold. Harry keeps his grip on his torso tight, “Louis, it’s me! It’s me!”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Louis cries out.

“Lou.” Harry lets go of the man and Louis scrambles away, until he’s recognizing Harry’s face and figure and everything and he’s crawling back again. Harry sighs in relief and welcomes him completely, his arms tight around Louis’ shoulders while Louis’ arms is around his torso, crying freely into his chest.

“He tried to—“ Louis sucks in a deep breath, “He tried to—“

“Shh, baby.” Harry whispers into his hair, keeping his lips to his temple, “I’m here, I’m here.”

“Harry.” Louis whimpers, clutching onto Harry’s shirt for dear life.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” _You’re safe now and I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I’ve got you and I’ll be here until you stop needing me._

He pulls away and cups Louis’ cheeks with his large hands. He leans in and presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead, chaste and comforting before he’s tugging Louis back to grab their bags and out of the restaurant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment to let me know what you think :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis, who only has one hand supporting his whole weight, slips and his head hits the glass so hard impact before he’s slipping from the vehicle completely, his consciousness lost.
> 
>  
> 
> “LOUIS!” Harry yells, and the bus is knocked again but this time, the water swallows it up and it completely sinks into the deep current.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Please comment and leave a kudos!

**SPRING**   
**“After all we’ve been through, everything I’ve done; it can’t be for nothing.” –Ellie**

  
There’s a deer emblem on the wall, and Louis’ deeply fascinated by it. Winter has ended, and him and Harry have been travelling ever since. They didn’t stay in one place for a long time because of Harry’s requests. They wouldn’t be safe anywhere, and literally everyone they come across to will try and kill them. Through the harsh cold, it’s been unbearable. Louis insists on staying in this one snug cottage so Harry wouldn’t strain him and his stitches, even though they both know that Harry is already capable of himself. It led them to a fight, with Louis screaming that he just wants Harry to be alright and with Harry insisting that he doesn’t want them to get spotted and get the whole thing back at the resort to start all over again. It triggered something in Louis, and the man left the room to lock himself in another.

  
The wind blows gently, and the winter season has left some of its cold to mix with the spring breeze. Louis has his arms crossed, and he reaches a finger up to trace the imprint on the concrete.

  
“Louis!” Louis whips around at the call of his name. Harry stands on the other side of the road, “Didn’t you hear me?”

  
Louis shrugs, “What is it?”

  
“Look,” Harry gestures to the buildings, “Hospital.”

  
And there it is, and they shouldn’t get there longer than one or two hours. It’s so near, and Louis can actually make out the large red cross on the side. Harry calls to him, “Come on, let’s go.”

  
They walk to the turnpike, and Harry begins to chat, “Do you feel that breeze? Back before, I remember running around in my backyard in my underwear. Oh and, maybe when we’re done with this thing, we can like… find another cottage and like… live there, or something. I’d like that, so much.” Harry looks back, and sees Louis kicking a pebble, head hung down. Harry nears him, “Louis, I’m talking to you.”

  
“Huh?” Louis snaps from his trance, and he looks back at Harry, eyes wide, “Oh, yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

  
Harry chooses to let it go, and he peeks inside an RV. He opens up the cabinets, grabbing some useful materials. A picture catches his eye, and he grabs it from the floor. He wipes at the paper before he looks at it. It’s a family picture; a father, a mother, a daughter, and a son. Harry throws it away.

  
Outside, he sees Louis entranced by another poster on the wall. It’s an airplane, “I dreamt about flying.”

  
Harry stands behind him, “When?”

  
“Before.” Louis answers and Harry instantly remembers it. He remembers how they talked about each other, how one of them broke down, and how they first kissed.

  
“Tell me about it.”

  
“So, I’m in this big plane full of people.” Louis faces him, “And everyone’s screaming and crying for help because the plane’s crashing down. I go to the cockpit-“ Always the lifesaver, Harry fonds, “-and there’s no pilot. I obviously have no clue how to fly a plane, but I grab the controls, and right before we crash, I woke up. It’s weird.”

  
“Dreams are weird.” Harry tell him.

  
They continue walking, and at the end is a warning. “Another city, another abandoned quarantine.” Harry sighs. He goes further and he jumps over a van and onto the top of a bus. He spots the hospital, “There’s that hospital. Clear as day.”

  
Louis doesn’t answer him, and Harry just shakes his head before he jumps on ground again. Harry enters a bus terminal, calling out, “Maybe we can cut through here?”

  
He doesn’t receive an answer. Instead of confronting, Harry finds a ladder up on a balcony. Harry calls, “Lou, we could use that ladder.”

  
Harry gets into the usual boost position, but he finds Louis standing by and fidgeting with his thumbs. Harry’s eyebrows knit into a worried frown, “Louis.”

  
Louis hears it, and he instantly gives his full attention to Harry, “Yeah?”  
“The ladder.” Harry gestures up.

  
“Of course, yeah.” Louis walks over. He puts a foot up before jumping with Harry assisting his weight. Louis climbs over, and his movements are slow as he pushes the ladder down. At the exact moment, Louis sees something pass by the high windows, “Oh my God.” He accidentally drops the ladder before he’s dashing off.

  
Harry, still at the first floor, jumps as the ladder falls off balanced, “Lou-Louis!” He puts up the ladder on the wall before he quickly climbs up, “Louis!”

  
“You gotta see this!” Louis’ at the end of the hallway and he’s looking out to one of the large windows.

  
“What the hell is-“ Harry says to himself, and he’d be lying if he says he’s not smiling fondly. He follows Louis into another room. The wall had a large hole, and the green wall has extended inside. Peeking inside the hole is a giraffe, feeding itself to the plants. Louis stands back, eyes wide, but he’s got this giddy looking expression.

  
Harry steps closer, and Louis whispers, “Don’t scare it!”

  
“I won’t, I won’t.” Harry soothes, and he steps even closer so it’s enough so his hand can touch the giraffe’s snout. He gestures to Louis, “Come on, touch it. It’s alright.”

  
Louis grins and he reaches a hand up to touch its neck. There are other giraffes roaming around, and Harry just realizes that there’s an abandoned zoo. When they get to the roof, Louis leans against the cement railing as he overlooks the zoo. The wind blows gently, and he closes his eyes to let it soothe him.

  
Harry steps up beside him, crossing his arms, “We’re not that far from the hospital.”

  
“I know.” Louis answers.

  
“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?” Harry asks. He looks down at Louis, eyes going soft, “If you don’t want to continue, we can go back. I won’t get mad, even if our… journey will be turned to a waste.”

  
“I don’t want it to be.”

  
Harry’s chest clenches and he gulps down his emotions. He knew he had poured it all out that night and somehow, it somehow became one of his favorite nights. Since he met the lad, Louis, he felt things that shouldn’t be as important in the middle of a mass destruction.

  
“I don’t know if I can give you back to them.” Harry confesses and he refuses to look at Louis as the latter looks up at him, “Now that this … now that everything between has happened.”

  
Louis looks back at the zoo where the giraffes are still walking off, “After all we’ve been through. It’s not for nothing. Besides, what’s the other option?”

  
“Go back to Gemma’s.” Harry says hurriedly, “Live.”

  
This time, Louis faces Harry and he rests a hand on Harry’s cheek, smiling lightly as Harry leans into his touch, “We can do that after.”

  
Harry’s breath shakes as he exhales, “What if there’s no after?”

  
“It’d still be worth it.”

  
“Jesus Christ, I’m in love with you.” Harry rasps out and he feels his chest relax, the weight on his shoulders lift up, “I’m in love with you and I’ll regret meeting you when I let you go in the end.”

  
Louis doesn’t answer, and it nearly makes Harry fall out. He smiles, though, and it looks genuine enough to believe.

  
And he passes Harry and out into the door to take them downstairs.

  
//

  
Louis remains silent as ever as they make their way out of the building and out of the terminal. They enter the old quarantine zone. Everything’s a mess, and it smells like thick dust and pills. It isn’t that bad, but Harry regrets his decision when he steps into the restroom, almost backing out when he spots a comic book on the floor. He covers his nose with his shirt before he picks the comic up.

  
Louis is already outside, enjoying the fresh air while Harry steals all the free, important stuff. When Harry walks out, he sees Louis standing by and looking around. He waves the comic in the air, “I found another comic.”

  
Louis smiles and he takes it in his hands, “I rarely read these anymore. You know that.”

  
“I do.” Harry shrugs, “But you still read them, not now probably, but someday.”

  
“Thanks.” Louis shoves the comic into the space in his bag, behind the other comics that Harry gave him through the way.

  
Outside, large tents of triage stand tall and still standing. Harry speaks up, beginning to walk towards them, “This takes me back.”

  
“How so?” Louis clears his throat.

  
“I ended up in a triage like this when everything went down. Lost and helpless.” Harry walked into one of them, rummaging through shelves, “I can still remember everyone’s faces. They’re all crying, fainting, finding their families, all torn apart. Literally everything happened so fast.”

  
“Is that after you lost your parents?”

  
“Yeah, it was.”

  
“I’m sorry.” Louis says.

  
“That’s okay.” Harry goes out of the triage. He and Louis walk up to the main entrance, or exit which is barricaded by a bus. As Harry approaches it, putting his gun back to his holster, Louis calls him back.

  
Harry looks back at him, “Yeah?”

  
“I have something for you.” Harry watches as Louis looks through his bag before he brings out a picture, still clear and unfolded, “Here,” Louis hands it to Harry, “Charlie showed it to me and I kind of stole it.” Louis shrugs weakly, and Harry stares blankly at the picture, “I hope you don’t mind.”

  
Harry finally reaches out to take the picture and he takes a brief look at it. The picture still looks so new even if it’s more than fifteen years old. It’s a family picture; Harry was like five-years old and Gemma was nine. His sister was carried by his dad and Harry was carried by his mother. They were happy and complete.

  
Harry pushes it at one of the pockets in his bag, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”  
He turns back to the bus before he climbs up inside it. They exit the bus and find a tunnel where what looks like traffic happened. They’re still pretty far away, but they won’t pass another day. Surely they’ll be there even before the sun sets. It’s fucking saddening.

  
It’s weird; how Harry, everything in him changed. Before, he was sure he was just another survivor without any priorities except for himself (And Liam, but that priority is long gone now) and he knew his ‘livelihood’ would never change. It was all about ration cards and surviving and dodging gunshots and Fireflies, but now he was across the country with this man who he somehow fell in love with on the way. He’s in Salt Lake City, and months ago he was ‘safe’ in his quarantine zone, doing his everyday thing.   
As Harry jogs down to the tunnel, Louis speaks up confidently, “This time it’s going to be different. I feel it.”

  
“What?” Harry frowns in confusion.

  
“Fireflies.” Louis says in the same tone, “They’re going to be there and we’re not going to be disappointed.”Yeah, well.

  
They jump through a trailer truck, landing on dirty water which lasts until their ankles. They hear the chattering of the infected’s teeth from afar, echoing through the empty tunnel. Harry holds a hand out, “Careful.” And he brings out his bow and an arrow.

  
Passing by a taxi cab, Harry notices two arrows pierce through one of its wheels, effectively deflating it and he takes it, putting the two on his quiver, “I don’t know if I like this.” Because if one of us dies because of this horde minutes away from the fucking hospital, I will kill myself.

  
Harry climbs over a trailer, crouched down as he overlooks the rest of the tunnel. The infected are scattered, swaying on their feet and back hunched over. Harry could kill them all from here, but it’s too risky because of the distance. He jumps down the trailer and to another car right beside it, and beside that car is an infected with its back towards him. Harry brings out his knife. He doesn’t hesitate before he’s latching a strong arm around the thing’s neck, tight and strong and with his other hand, he slammed the blade of his knife deep into its temple, twisting it. The infected fights against his grip but eventually falls limp. Harry stabs it one more time (he believes in double tap).

  
Louis jumps after him as Harry hides behind a wall. Harry tells him, “If I die now, go straight to the Fireflies.”

  
“I won’t let that happen.”

  
They go inside an open door which leads to a room, protecting them from the others outside. Harry quietly climbs up a short flight of stairs with Louis following him. They press themselves to the wall and Harry peeks through the hall. Three infected are standing by, guns would be appropriate right now if there aren’t any more outside.

  
Harry takes his flamethrower, smirking to himself. Bravely standing on the end of the hallway, the infected takes notice of his presence, immediately going to lunge at him and at his organs. Harry pulls on the trigger and flames spring out of the gun. The three infected are barbecued easily, laying black and burned on the floor seconds after.

  
They find a door a few doors later, and they’re back out into the tunnel only to find that the same door earlier is just feet away. “Oh.” Harry rolls his eyes, quietly remarking, “That was a great waste of energy and time.”

  
Louis smiles fondly, “You’re an idiot.”

  
They stealth, careful of being seen or being heard. Soon, they get near enough and hid behind crates of boxes. Harry shoots most of them his arrow, but others are alert instantly, making their hideous animalistic sounds so both of them change to their guns, making sure it’s full of bullets. They shoot, and the gunshots are loud enough to have their ears ringing and enough to bring the echo out of the tunnel. It’s tough work, and Harry’s head nearly gets ripped off before Louis rips the head of the infected off himself.

  
Soon, they’re all done and full of sweat and blood. Harry gains another wound on his arm; a large cut from being shoved back to one of the crates. The corner of it got scratched into his skin. It’s not deep, but it’s bleeding. Louis takes time to waste their clean water to pour all over Harry’s new cut before wrapping bandage over it securely, “You’re always the one getting injured. And you say you’re a pro at surviving.”

  
“Surviving isn’t about the amount of cuts you have in your body; it’s about you living after you get a particular injury.” Harry slides his shirt up to his stomach to see the large, still healing stitch that Louis had done himself.

  
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Louis smiles before he gets ahead of Harry. Harry watches as Louis climbs up the trailer truck, standing tall over it. He calls out, “We’re all done! Everything’s clear here.”

  
Harry follows him. Starting from there, the water gets deeper and deeper. Harry curses. Louis looks at him, “I think the water’s dirty. Your stitches will get infected.”

  
“I’m pretty sure my skin’s closed off now.” Harry shrugs, “It’s been months. I can stretch however I want.”

  
“You sure?”

  
“Of course.” Harry confirms, “Trust me.”

  
“Alright.” Louis murmurs, “But keep your injured arm up alright? It’s still fresh.”

  
Harry smiles, “Yes, sir.”

  
Louis rolls his eyes at the man before he jumps down. The water starts at their calves but it quickly drowns down their thighs and hips as they walk down further. Louis says almost apologetically, “We really have to swim, huh?”

  
“Yeah.” Harry removes his bag and raises it up to his head, slowly jumping into the water and pumping his legs to keep him afloat. Louis copies him.  
They swim to the other side until they come across a firetruck covering their way. Harry latches to its ladder with one hand, resting his bag on one shoulder. He climbs up with struggle. When he reaches its top, he puts his bag down before he climbs up, breathing out a large relieved breath. Louis follows him after, and Harry gives his hand to him for assistance.

  
“Still breathing?” He asks once both of them are on top.

  
Louis ignores him, and instead he places his hands on his hips as he stares behind Harry, “Well, isn’t this quite dandy?”

  
Harry turns around, only to find the current much faster than the one on the other side. It’s not affecting the fire truck that much because below was a big pile of boulders for the impact of the water to hit. The water is pretty deep and Harry can’t really fight off the strength of the water, but there’s small truck trailers which is practically consumed by the water lined up near enough to each other.

  
“There’s no way we’re going to swim in.” Louis takes a step back.

  
“I’m not going to be risky this time, so yeah.” Harry points, before he cautiously slides down the pile of boulders before jumping onto one. He beckons for Louis to follow before he walks to the end. He gains leverage before jumping to the other one. It makes a grunt under the sudden weight, but it doesn’t budge. Louis’ following him and he’s quite behind so Harry waits for him, quite impatiently, “Today, Lou, please.”

  
“I don’t have legs like yours.” Louis sassily remarks, standing a few steps back before running. He jumps at the end to join where Harry’s standing, but he misses by that much. His arms latch onto the trailer and his knees down to his bottom extremities are dipped into the water. Harry runs to him, grabbing his arms and pulling him up fully, “You idiot with your clumsy legs.” Harry grumbles.

  
Louis complains, “I’m all wet.”

  
“Come on, let’s get out of this thing.” Harry climbs up a truck blocking the way before making his way on top of a broken vent. Louis follows him, foot heavy because the added amount of water. He’s desperate to wring the water out as soon as possible. This time, Harry waits for Louis to jump and once the latter does, he goes straight through Harry before jumping down to the bus way down below acting as a bridge to get to the other side, where safety is screaming at them.

  
“Louis, be careful.” Harry scolds in a low tone, because the further they go through the tunnel, the heavier the water current gets.

  
Harry, with all the slowness and alarm, jumps down to the vehicle, and it makes a loud grunting sound. It horrifyingly tips to the side and Harry shouts, “Lou, go, go!”

  
Louis quickly climbs over to the metal ledge, and Harry quickly follows. He almost loses his balance but he manages to latch onto the edge. It was supposed to be fine from there; he should’ve got on and both of them should have watch as the bus gets carried away with the current, but no. It was never easy.

  
The ledge Harry’s hanging on to breaks and Harry slips from the sudden jerk. He slips through the entrance which lay horizontally and he latches on there, too. The bus is now moving with the water, and Louis’ following, following, following. The bus hits something, and Harry slips from the handlel once again and completely inside the bus.

  
“Harry!” Louis cries out and he trips to his feet but he quickly composes himself.

  
Harry’s got one arm on a metal rod and his free hand is also clinging to it. His lower half is submerged in water with the bus. He slips again from the sudden impact of the bus towards something, and he falls into the water and floats until he gets to hold on a railing standing by the chairs similar to the others. Harry tries to physically pull and drag himself all the way to the front where the entrance is wide open and shattered. He’s grabbing a railing one by one, and he’s two more away, one more—

  
But the last one breaks in his grip and he’s travelled back to the very end, his back hitting the back of the bus. The water is beginning to swallow the bus and now it’s up to his chest. Harry quickly looks for an escape, frantically looking and examining every thing before he hears a thud from above him.

  
Louis has jumped over back to the bus and he lands successfully into the bus doors above Harry. It cracks a little, and Harry holds on to it. He pulls it down, pulls, and he even lifts his own feet up to open at least one door fully. Louis’ kicking it from the outside, helping the man. It opens suddenly and Harry’s hit in the head that he drops to the water. He recovers, quickly resurfacing back to breathe.

  
The bus hits something again and its force is stronger now that it knocks the bus onto its side slightly once again and into its normal position. Louis, who only has one hand supporting his whole weight, slips and his head hits the glass so hard impact before he’s slipping from the vehicle completely, his consciousness lost.

  
“LOUIS!” Harry yells, and the bus is knocked again but this time, the water swallows it up and it completely sinks into the deep current.

  
Harry panics all of a sudden. He swims out of the bus with his cheeks blown for air. He doesn’t have much more, and he’s positively sure he’s swallowed up a big gulp of the water.

  
Everything’s dark and green under the filthy water. He doesn’t know where Louis is and he’s starting to get anxious. He looks around, until he sees a body floating around under another pile of rocks. He quickly swings to Louis, and he brings him to surface and out to safety where the current ends.

  
Lying Louis down on the concrete ground, Harry kneels up beside him. There’s no blood on his forehead, only a forming bruise and Harry figures he’s also drowned from the water. He’s not breathing. Louis’ not breathing. He’s not sure and he’s so scared right now so he starts doing CPR anyways.

  
“Lou, come on.” Harry grits his teeth.

  
He pumps his two hands at the spot between where Louis’ specs are supposed to be. He continues. He gives Louis air; he gives chest pumps, another blow of air and over and over again. Harry’s not relenting, not when he’s wrists are starting to hurt and not when, not when—

  
“Hands in the air!” Two military men approach Harry. They come from the exit of the tunnel, holding up their big guns.

  
Harry doesn’t put his hands in the air, he continues to perform CPR, “Help him. He… He’s not breathing.”

  
The soldier repeats his words, but Harry continues to give Louis the poorly-performed CPR. The soldier gets impatient and he hits Harry in the head with the butt of his gun with so much force it knocks Harry out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you beautiful human.


	8. Last Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Find someone else.” Harry demands quietly.
> 
>  
> 
> “There is no one else.” Eleanor replies just as hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter everyone!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: NO I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS HERE NOE IN THE VIDEO GAME. ALL IN NAUGHTYDOG'S CREATIVE, AMAZING OWNERSHIP MAN.

**SPRING**

  
**“Swear to me. Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.” –Ellie**.

  
Everything hurts.

  
Harry doesn’t know if he got tortured during his unconsciousness, with them taking advantage of it and hurting him as much as possible. But when he wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed and not tied in a chair on a scary room. A normal, hospital bed, with…with electricity and clean shit and no strange smells.

  
It almost feels like the very first time he was in a hospital, but when he looks to his side, he sees Eleanor, and a stranger he assumes to be the soldier who knocked him out and took him away.

  
_Took him away… took… fuck, where’s Louis?_ Harry bolts right up, but he groans and clutches at his head as the blood rush all the way up. Eleanor speaks up, “Welcome to the Fireflies. Sorry about the… they didn’t know who you were.”

  
“Where’s Louis?”

  
“He’s alright. I was quite surprised when I saw you two. How’d you do it?” Eleanor asks, and she has this expression on her face that Harry doesn’t bother recognizing.

  
“It was all him.” Harry shakes his head, “Fought like hell to come all the way here.”

  
Eleanor crosses her arms and leans back towards her seat, “I pretty much lost everything with my men crossing the country dying and what not. And then you bring him to us just in time. It’s meant to be.”

  
Harry slowly swings his still shoe-clad feet to the floor, hands gripping the bed sheets. The weight on his back is suddenly gone with the absence of his bag, which, he suddenly remembers, is probably drowning itself back at that torture current, “Take me to him.”

  
“You can’t.” Eleanor readies herself to leave, possibly expecting Harry to just go back in his own quarantine and let them take care of business, but no. Never. That’s not his business anymore. Eleanor continues, “He’s being prepped for surgery.”

  
Harry closes his eyes and he warily stands up, “Surgery…”

  
“The doctors told me that…”Eleanor hesitates, “… the infection inside him has somehow mutated, changed. It’s why he’s immune. Once they remove it, they’ll be able to reverse-engineer a vaccine.” Eleanor gives him a pained look, “A vaccine, Harry.”

  
And fuck, Harry knows it. He found out about it the first day they met and it supposed to be a fucking drop-off. Something he should’ve done and let go easily, but this is not he’s expecting. This isn’t what he wants. Niall’s warned him about it; _“It’s going to blow up on your face_.” And yeah, it pretty much did. It blew and he didn’t even notice he was unprepared.

  
“Find someone else.” Harry demands quietly.

  
“There is no one else.” Eleanor replies just as hard.

  
“Listen,” Harry points a finger at her, “You’re going to take me to him and—“ Someone kicks him at the back of his knees, and he drops to the ground as a gun is clicked and aimed at his head.

  
“Stop.” Eleanor practically pleads, but she doesn’t show a single trace of weakness, “Stop fighting. All of us have something to get through, and don’t you want it to finally end? This is our only hope, Harry.”

  
Harry stares at the ground for a few painful seconds before he pushes himself to sit on the ground, shaking his head, “Yeah, we keep telling ourselves that bullshit.”

  
Eleanor straightens up and she speaks to her attendant, “March him out of here. If he so much tries anything, shoot him.” And then she goes back to Harry, “I will not let you take this gift away, Harry.” She leaves, and Harry follows her footsteps until he door closes.

  
“Get up.” The guard says to him, gun raised. Harry looks up at him before he stands up painfully slow for the soldier, who complains, “Move, go on.”

  
They exit through the doorway and Harry asks, “Which way?” The soldier doesn’t say anything, but he keeps his eye at Harry and points to the right direction.

  
Harry walks ahead of him with his arms free and heavy, which is really an idiotic and convenient thing. They cross the hall, and Harry can sense the heat of the gun pointed at his back. If the soldier dares to shoot, the bullet would go straight through Harry’s ribs and lung. There’s no one else on the floor, and it gives Harry the chance.

  
Once passing by a wall, Harry stops his steps. The guard pokes at him with his gun again, “What are you doing? Keep walking.” Harry doesn’t, “I said keep—“ The moment he feels the harsh blunt tip of the gun pressed against him, he pushes it back with his elbow that it shoots at the wall. It stuns the soldier and Harry pins him on the wall with the gun already in his hand. He points it at the man’s hip, with his other arm pinning at his neck.

  
“Where’s the operating room?” Harry says. He’s almost threatening, and anyone looking would probably run and never return.

  
The man doesn’t answer, and hell Harry needs fast, “I don’t have time for this.” He shoots, right at the man’s hipbone, and the latter groans at the hit, “Where?”

  
“T…Top…” The man croaks out.

  
Harry shoot him at the same spot, “Where?!”

  
“Top… floor.” The man wheezes, “Far end.”

  
Harry nods. He lets the man fall to his knees pathetically. For good measures, Harry shoots him in the head as well. Harry keeps the gun on his grip. He feels like starting over with o collection of guns and no skills.

  
“I heard gun shots! Search the floor!” Red lights flashes out from different areas, and Harry hides behind the wall at the end of the hallway.

  
“Oh shit, Ethan’s dead.” A guard says from the other side, “We got a man down. The smuggler escaped.”

  
A radio sounds, “Locate the target and eliminate him. We’ll search the other floors.”

  
And that, it sets Harry going. There’s a lot of rooms and hallways through the hospital and it’s hard navigating through them and finding his way, especially if he has no idea where the hell he’s going. He just needs to get to the stairs, like, real quick. The hospital’s not fully lit with the usual white lights. It’s dim lit and Harry takes it as an advantage.

  
He hides behind these stacks of crate and supplies at a sharp left of the hallway. There, he spots a few Fireflies searching for him on the continued hall. He waits for them to come close enough before he targets them. He’s silent (but deadly) at this part, because no, he really doesn’t need all of the Fireflies coming together at once.

  
He takes out his arrows and his bow, nailing them one-by-one. He never once get caught. Before he knew it, the hallway’s empty, but not for long. He retrieves his arrows back, now filthy with blood and flesh. He rips it away nonetheless and puts it back on his quiver.

  
He sees a doorway with the label “West Wing” on top of it. He enters it cautiously. It’s a long hallway with a counter on the side. He approaches it, halfway through the hall when he hears fast footsteps from the other side of the door at the end. He jumps across the counter and crouches behind it just in time when a couple of men barge in.

  
“Down this way! Stay alert!” and following it is, “Dear god, it’s a massacre over here!”

  
Harry ignores it. He runs until he reaches the end of the hall. He’s quite on the dark side now, even darker than earlier. He’s crouched down, heart pounding and it pounds even more when a door suddenly opens. A Firefly with his flashlight and gun comes out. Harry ducks behind the reception counter, but he’s still seen.

  
“Oh shit, he’s here!” Then the man hides behind a couch where guests were supposed to wait for their probably dead or critical loved ones.

  
Harry picks up a discarded bottle and throws it to the other direction. The man snaps up, pointing his gun. Harry throws another bottle. This time, it hits the man on the head, stunting him. Harry goes for him then, grabbing his head and slamming on the edge of the counter. It effectively smashes the man’s face. He was wearing a stupid fedora.

  
The noise of the bottles sure attracted numbers of Fireflies. Harry takes off in a stairwell and blocks the door with a chair. Soon, it rattles from a forced from the other side. Thanks for the convenience of the chair.

  
“Top floor.” Harry pants. He runs like four steps at a time and before he knows it, he’s at the top floor. He swings the door open and readies his gun once again. The floor’s thankfully empty, but not for long. In a room, he finds a recorder. He stands there and plays it, putting it close to his ear, “It’s 5:00 pm and I’ve just finished talking to the head surgeon.” It’s Eleanor, “Apparently, there’s no way to extract the parasite without harming the host.” There’s a pause and Harry grips at the recorder tighter, “We gotta kill him. They’re just waiting for me to say the word.” She sounds like she’s going to cry, sobbing and deep breathing, “I’m so tired, and exhausted. I just want this to end.” Harry clenches his eyes tight, “…. So be it.”

  
Harry just stands there, his other hand gripping his gun harder. He launches the recorder at the nearest wall and it shatters into pieces. He has to get through this, fast.

  
The top floor is much more like a massacre, like a war, whatever. Harry’s getting weaker and weaker; he can feel it himself. His aims are becoming worse and his limbs are slowly turning lazy. He can’t end it this way though. He’s been through so much and he just want to start over, back at his quarantine, or possibly back at Gemma’s. but this time, he wants Louis with him. He needs Louis with him. So much can happen in just a few months. Harry certainly didn’t expect for him, a hard-shelled, stubborn man, to fall in love.

  
It’s quite ridiculous, really. Out of all times, he manages to fall for someone in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. But love is inevitable. And so is death, so he needs to be fucking alive just for him to tell Louis that he really does love him with all his heart.

  
There’s a lot more rooms in this floor. He goes to each one, hoping that he’ll see Louis, passed out but not dead preferably. He sees another recorder and he presses it near his ear again, “Hey, Johannah.” _Who’s Johannah_? “I just gave a go for the surgery. I didn’t have much of a choice. But believe me, I took care of him.” There’s a hoarse laugh, “I treated him like a baby brother, despite everything that I’m in charge of. I would’ve saved him, but I’m afraid I can’t.” Harry figures it out then. Eleanor’s directing this one to Louis’ mother, “This is a chance to save all of us. This is what you were after. Oh I miss you so much, Jay. Louis will be with you soon.”

  
Harry puts down the recorder with shaking fingers. It slides off the bedside table and clatters to the floor. It accidentally hits its play button and Harry leaves it at that, fleeing from the room faster before he can hear the painful recorder once again.

  
He runs through the hallways cautiously, still wary and alert despite the emotions that are threatening to break through. He finds a red door at some point and he swings it open. Inside, there’s another hallway, but he’s momentarily blinded by the active light from the operating room. He barges in. It’s not the greatest sight. Louis’ in a hospital gown, konked out for surgery. Jesus, he’s even fucking strapped on the bed.

  
“Oh my God.” One doctor gasps, and then he pulls out a gun. Harry’s faster. He shoots the man and gives deadly glares to the other doctor and nurse that pushed themselves towards the wall.

  
“Don’t do this.” The nurse shakily says, “Think about the lives that’ll be saved. Please.”

  
Harry shoots them both, too. It’s heartless and Harry despises himself for it. Harry yanks off the oxygen mask from Louis’ face. Louis’ still unconscious. He hooks one arm under Louis’ back and another one under his knees. He grabs his gun on one hand before he goes straight to the door. Exit, he needs to find the exit.

  
As he runs, red lights flicker through every hallway and he knows he just gotta run for an escape. There’s no way he’s going to risk Louis by trying to fight all of them. Fireflies are yelling out and flashlights are shining from every direction. Harry doesn’t even know if he can survive this.

  
“He’s over here!”

  
“Come on, man, we just want the man.”

  
“I got you, I got you.” Harry chants under his breath. He can’t look at Louis yet, afraid he’s going to misstep a foot and trip himself to death.

  
“Cover the exits!”

“Come on.” Harry grits his teeth.

  
“You’ve got nowhere to go!”

  
Harry breathes out, “We’re okay, darling. We’re okay.”

  
“This is your last chance!”

  
“Drop him!”

  
Harry runs faster. He’s still got his mind intact. His heart? Not so much. He almost gets shot, but he misses it thankfully. He goes to one of the hallway and it’s like a miracle. The elevator’s right there, doors open wide. He runs for it. He slides inside and presses the right button, “Come on, come on, come on.” His breath is uneven now.

  
He stands there, back pressed towards the wall of the elevator. As the doors close, he can see the Fireflies running after him, “Hey stop!”

Someone shoot against the doors and it bounces off. The door’s close and the lift starts moving. Harry sags against the door.

  
“Oh God.” He rests his head back. He spends the seconds for rest before the elevator dings. He readies himself. The elevator doors open and Harry stops it, pressing the elevator stop button. The moment he steps out, a gun’s pointed towards him, “You can’t save him.”

  
Eleanor glares at Harry, “Tell me, how long do you think he’ll survive out there? How long until he gets killed by a horde of those monsters? Or get killed by those hunters, huh?”

  
Harry faces her. Harry can see everything in her eyes; everything she’s fought against. She continues, “It’s what he’d want, Harry.” She starts to lower her gun and raise her hands up, “and you know it.”

  
“Do the right thing here.” Harry’s eyes follows her slow movements, “You can still give the world back.”

  
//

  
It’s been a long while since Winter ended, but Harry can still feel the its breeze leave a dent behind for spring. The highway’s empty, of course it is. It’s been ages since traffic existed. Sometimes, it’s a perk for an apocalypse. There’s couple of dead bodies lying around, though. And sometimes, when a lone infected is walking about, Harry just drives close enough, whips his car door out and hits it square in the face. This car’s shit, though and Harry wishes he looked for a better one.

  
“Fuck…” Louis breathes from the backseat. He’s still lying down, knees bent. From someone so small, Harry can’t believe that he can’t fit in the backseat with his limbs stretched, “What the hell am I wearing?”

  
“Take it easy, love.” Harry speaks, eyes locked on the road, “The drug’s still wearing off.”

  
Louis rubs at his heavy eyes, “What happened?”

  
“We found the Fireflies.” Harry’s grip tightens around the steering wheel, “Right after you drowned and hit your head. Turns out…” Harry pauses, “There’s a whole lot more like you, Louis.”

  
“What do you mean?” Louis asks, groaning as he sits up and sags back against the seat.

  
“People that are immune.” Harry rephrases, “There are dozens, strapped to each bed like how you were. They’ve stopped looking for a cure.” He looks back at Louis through the rearview mirror, ”I’m taking us home right now. I’m sorry.”

  
_Harry’s still aware he’s got his gun to his grip, his finger just at the trigger. He makes it known for Eleanor, shooting her on her hip. She drops to the ground, wheezing. Harry goes to the nearest car, unlocks it through the open window. He slides Louis in carefully on the backseat, mindful of his legs. He slams the door and walks back to Eleanor, who’s now coughing, holding on to her last breath._

  
_“Wait!” She gasps, “Let me go.” Her eyes are begging, “Please.”_

  
_Harry actually considers it, but he changes his mind at the last minute when he shoots Eleanor on the head._

  
Louis’ bite is dry, just like how it’s been all these months. God, it’s almost a year. A year of being with Harry, yet he’ll never regret every single second of it. Harry’s doing something with their car’s hood. They’re somewhere near now, just a few miles, probably. Louis doesn’t remember.

  
Harry slams the hood and walks back to Louis with his hands playing with each other, “Looks like we’re walking.”

  
Louis stands from the car and slams the door, rolling his sleeve down, “Alright.”

  
They’re on top of a cliff. The view is beautiful. Louis never really get to admire it before. He follows Harry. They go through a barb wire fence, assisting each other through. “Careful there.” Harry says.

  
They resume walking, no rush this time. The tress are wonderful and strong. One of Louis’ plans was to climb a tree and just … admire everything. “Pretty, innit?”

  
“Yeah.” Louis answers.

  
“I don’t think I ever told you but…” Harry jogs a little bit then slows down to pet a wandering squirrel before letting it go to rummage the bushes, “My parents and I used to take hikes like these. I was like, nine or ten. Gemma always refused to come and stayed home. What a brat she was.”

  
They continue to jump and climb through boulders until they start to see Gemma’s small village down below, “Here we are.” Harry sighs, resting his hands on his waist, “Just have to find a way down.”

  
There’s a mini waterfall. Louis takes a moment to wash his hands and cool his face off. “Hey..” He speaks.

  
Harry looks back at him, “Yeah?”

  
“Remember when I told you about how… how I’m obsessed with being a hero?” Louis shakily asks, shy all of a sudden. His heart swells because he also remembers that particular night.

  
“Of course.” Harry nods solemnly, “That was the best night of my life, Lou.”

  
“Well, you told me, that…” Louis takes a deep breath, “.. that the Fireflies stopped looking for a cure.”

  
“That isn’t your fault, Lou.”

  
“You don’t understand.” Louis argues weakly and Harry feels his heart on his throat, “I’ll always wonder and think about why they stopped—“

  
“We struggled for a long time with surviving, Louis.” At the grimace crossing Louis’ face, Harry rushes out, “This isn’t what you’d want to hear right now, but no matter what, you have to keep finding something to fight for—“ At that, Louis stops pacing.

  
It’s a few seconds before he lets out, “Swear to me.” Louis’ eyes are pleading, “Swear to me that everything you just said about the Fireflies is true.”

  
Harry stares at him, “I swear.”

  
**THE END**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support x. I wrote, finished and published this altogether in a little over a year but it's worth it. Them hours I spent watching videos of Poods playing it really paid off. 
> 
> Again, all in NaughtyDog's ownership. The Last Of Us, 10/10.

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii! Leave a comment, or kudos, darling. Let me know if you enjoy it.


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